


Fate: Sorcerer

by euphoricimage



Category: Fate/stay night (Visual Novel), Fate/stay night: Heaven's Feel (Anime 2017), Fate/stay night: Unlimited Blade Works (Anime 2014), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dimension Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:27:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 29,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23113942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euphoricimage/pseuds/euphoricimage
Summary: "My name is Harry Potter. It's a pleasure to meet you." "Nope, never heard of you." To be thrown into another world was something that Harry had never expected. So naturally, that's exactly what happened to him. And now everyone's targeting him because he knows this "True Magic" thing. At least he has a knight and a third-rate mage by his side.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 71





	1. Arrival

There are people in the world who can wake up in the morning, go about their lives, and then sleep peacefully. There are people in the world who don't find themselves constantly in life-and-death situations.

Harry Potter is not one of them.

"Oh dear."

Harry dove out of the way as sharp stalactites dropped down from the ceiling, nearly skewering him. It then promptly exploded. His wand spun in his hand as he formed a shield that protected him from the shrapnel.

"Why does this always happen to me?" Harry lamented, maintaining the shield with a forlorn face, "This was supposed to be a routine assessment! No, not even that. This was supposed to be my first vacation in years!" Harry casually dismissed the shield with a mere flick of his wand as he recalled the events that led to this catastrophe.

He was in South America. Peru, to be exact. Machu Picchu, to be even more accurate. Under the mountain inside the hidden caves, to be precise. The International Confederation of Wizards had sent him there. They had spun it well, making it seem like it'd be a walk in the park: an all-expenses paid vacation to South America. And all he had to do was to check out this little problem they'd detected.

Truthfully, he should've expected that something like this would happen. Trouble seemed to gravitate towards him. Harry had hope that this time, it'll be different. And so, ignoring his intuition telling him to say no, he'd foolishly agreed.

Making the international Apparition jump was easily done. He'd performed all the necessary calculations in his head, envisualised his destination, and spun in place, pumping vast amounts of magic needed to make such a long jump.

It was a flawless Apparition. Something that most normal wizards and witches cannot do without Splinching themselves halfway across the Atlantic Ocean.

He'd arrived at the Peruvian Embassy of Magic, accepted their refreshments (it was delicious) then quickly made his way to Machu Picchu. At first, he saw nothing wrong. The ruins were untouched, and there wasn't anything nefarious lurking around.

But there was still something there. Something underneath the ground. Harry didn't know how he knew it. It was akin to a sixth sense, a sense that people who regularly fight for their lives acquire. So Harry sunk in, transfiguring the dirt to air as he went. Deeper and deeper he travelled until he suddenly dropped down into a wide cave.

It was well-lit. Torches that gave off golden light line the walls. The walls themselves were covered with runes. Harry could recognize some of them: runes that concealed this area from discovery, anti-Muggle repelling wards, runes that prevented Divination from working. Clearly, this place was not meant to be discovered.

He'd been busy admiring the runes, for they were a masterpiece. Efficient, compact, not a drop of magic wasted. Suddenly, a bold of yellow light had shot out of the air in front of him. Harry had simply tilted his head to the side. Then the battle that he was currently in ensued.

"It'll be easy, they said! It's just some minor disturbances, and we just need you to check it out real quick, they said!" Harry's eyes widened as his senses screamed out at him. He quickly spun in place, Apparating 6 feet to his left. Where he had stood before was now a crater, the center of which was still red with heat. A near instantaneous blasting spell. Yet another brush with death.

"But no, of course I can't get anything simple in my life, can I, Rasputin?!"

The man in front of him grinned. He had white hair, similar to Harry's own, albeit a bit darker. His countenance was rugged and ancient, deep creases folding across his face. His teeth were sharp, much sharper than it should've been.

"I'm impressed. I really didn't think that you'd recognize me. You're better than I thought." Rasputin said, leering at Harry with his eyes. Harry recoiled. Rasputin's eyes had no light. There was no reflection; it was simply a dark and empty pit of misery. It reminded Harry of the artificial humans he came upon when he had infiltrated a vampire coven.

Harry smiled politely as he recalled everything he knew about this man in front of him. "Thank you, Grigori Yefimovich Rasputin. The self-proclaimed Holy Man. Who wouldn't recognize you? You've been on the ICW's kill list for a long time now. In fact, you were on their dead list several times as well. Tell me, how is it that you never die?"

Rasputin clicked his tongue at Harry. In his hand was a Shashka, a Russian saber. Runes ran down the entirety of the sword, leaving only the razor-sharp edge uncovered.

"Now, now. Just telling you wouldn't be fun at all. Why don't you see for yourself? If you can, that is." Then Rasputin swung down his Shashka. The runes glowed black briefly, before a wave of power blasted out. Harry stabbed his wand down onto the ground, hands blurring as he went through the necessary wand motions in the blink of an eye- literally.

The earth rose up, was transfigured into dense metals, and then was shaped into a multi-layered wall. It met the blast head on. The first layer blew out immediately, metal flying out and reverting back into dirt. Then the second layer. Then the third. Finally, it broke through the final defense, only to reveal Harry nowhere in sight.

Rasputin suddenly jumped up, leaping a solid 8 feet into the air. Below him the ground bubbled menacingly, before turning a deep orange color and blasting straight up like a geyser. The molten dirt and rock shot at Rasputin at immense speeds. Rasputin quickly swung his Shashka down, his speed defying his age. The Shashka bisected the stream of fire, splitting it in two, sending it to either side of Rasputin. Even as he did this, however, Rasputin tilted his head to the side. A moment later, sharp metal spikes flew from the stream right at where his head was and impaled the ceiling behind him.

"A classic trick. Startle the enemy by adjusting the battlefield around him, shock the enemy with a flashy but easily countered attack, whilst concealing the lethal blow within. It'd work on most people, but I'm not most people, am I?"

The fountain of fire stopped, as it became clear to Harry that it would have no effect. Harry canceled the Disillusionment charm wrapped around him, stepping out from the shadows. Harry's gaze was focused only on Rasputin's Shashka.

"That's a really nice blade. The runes are wonderful, not to mention the materials used itself." Harry spoke with a detached tone. Gone was the humorous lilt in his voice, replaced with a cold mechanical hardness.

Rasputin smiled. "Thank you. It's nice to see someone appreciate my work. It wasn't easy to make, you know."

Harry nodded his head slowly. He closed his eyes. Then he snapped them back open. A blast of magic exploded from Harry, blowing everything back a few inches. A sudden wind rushed through the cave. Harry's pale white hair was affected, blowing across to the side, as his white cloak started billowing out.

These displays of power all paled in comparison of Harry's eyes, however. They weren't glowing. There weren't any special effects. It was the same green as always. But somehow, someway it conveyed, no, promised only one thing.

Death.

"Easy? I'm no fool, Rasputin. That blade was forged with the bones of a drakon. In all my studies, I've only discovered one way to temper drakon bones, to make it malleable enough to hammer it into a blade. And that's by using Cursed Flames. How many children did it take for you to fuel the flames? How many people did you have to kill, how many lives did you have to destroy to be able to create such a monstrosity?" Harry roared out, his anger causing his magic to wildly lash out.

Cracks formed in the walls as an immense magical pressure filled the cave. Rasputin just stood there, seemingly unaffected. Harry felt a flash of rage as he stared at Rasputin's Shashka.

Drakons, like their successors the dragons, were immune to flames. They were immune to just about everything, actually. Legend said that they had initially spawned out from an active volcano around 32 million years ago. Powered by the ambient magic of the volcano, they had tough hides that were nigh impossible to penetrate and could breathe flames that scorched the skies.

They had gone nearly extinct, as was the case of many other ancient creatures, with perhaps only 3 drakons remaining in the world today, currently nesting deep within the magma vents of the Earth.

Their remains, while few, still existed, however. Harry had found some drakon bones and skins in the Pacific Ocean. The magic imbued in them, while greatly diminished, still made it so that even the crushing pressure of the ocean's depth and the maw of nature didn't make a dent.

Melting the bones to cast it was nearly impossible. Natural fire, no matter how hot, didn't work. Magical flames didn't either. Even the dark infernos of Fiendfyre had no effect.

Only flames powered by human sacrifice and suffering had any effect on drakon bones. It was called Cursed Flames, flames that had no real combat application because it takes a long time to form and once it does form, it cannot be moved from its original position. In terms of smelting power, however, no flames could possibly surpass it.

It was also extremely dark. Life energy supplied by humans and negative emotions supplied by torturing of said humans. Both of which were extremely potent sources of magical power, and both of which were pumped into the Cursed Flames.

Which is what makes the Shashka so terrifying. The power of Cursed Flames increases like a straight line graph, but the materials needed to get it to that power increases exponentially. For the Cursed Flames to be able to melt drakon bones, bones which legend say are completely immune to fires of all kinds, well.

Harry ran some quick Arithmantic calculations in his head. His heart wrenched at the results.

It wasn't a hundred humans. It wasn't a thousand. It was in the millions.

However, Cursed Flames are also terribly inefficient. A hundred humans providing life energy and suffering would only result in perhaps five humans worth of energy going into the flames itself. The rest would simply dissipate into the air.

Unless, of course, something had absorbed the excess energy.

The runes on top must've been used to convert all of the energy, all of the negative emotions and suffering into magic. Rasputin had created a pseudo-wand. No wood or magical core was used, only drakon bones and human suffering held together by runes. It was an abomination of the highest degree. Harry's own wand seemed to twitch in agreement.

Rasputin's eyes widened, causing his face to become even more inhuman and uncanny. Then he let out several rasps of breaths. Harry realized it was laughter. This monster had forgotten how to laugh normally.

"Oh, Harry Potter. I hadn't known that you were this well versed in the darker aspects of magic. I'd thought that you were Dumbledore's Golden Boy." Rasputin's voice had taken on a sing-song quality, as if mocking Harry.

"Well, since you asked," and he twirled around his Shashka like the blades of a fan, "It took around one and a half million lives to be able to melt the drakon bones. Several decades of work. You have no idea how hard it was to conceal all of this from the Confederation. It was even harder to keep it a secret from Dumbledore. But I prevailed. A little bit of sacrifices here, a little bit of genocide there, and soon enough, I had enough power to create my sword."

And his voice abruptly lost all mocking qualities, hardening into steel.

"And it is with this blade that I will retake what was rightfully mine and become God-King."

Harry inwardly cursed his luck. Had the ICW known that Rasputin was here? Definitely. They wouldn't call him out otherwise. But he had ignored his instincts. He couldn't resist the allure of a fun vacation. He thought he'd just go there, examine the grounds, detect maybe some minor wrongdoing, save the day, then eat good food and enjoy the scenery. Peace.

But instead, he's fighting yet another insane radical who wished to take over the world, not caring about how many lives were trampled in the process. And it was Harry's responsibility to stop him.

Story of his life.

Harry took a deep breath, drawing back in all of the magic he'd let flood the room. While great for intimidation tactics, it was a massive waste of his reserves. Instead, he quickly compressed and shuffled his magic until there was no magical presence at all. There was no leakage of magic into the natural environment.

Rasputin whistled. "That's impressive. I've only met maybe a hundred people who had that much control over their magic. Wow. That's actually insane. I can't sense you at all."

Harry didn't deign to respond, instead raising his wand at Rasputin and speaking two words.

"Infernis Arderet"

The Hellfire spell. It was similar to Fiendfyre in that it was extremely Dark magic and it involved flames, but that was where the similarity ended.

While Fiendfyre was almost a sentient creature composed of hatred that took up an animal form to burn and raze indiscriminately, Hellfire was a much more surgical fire that acted like a scalpel. It was useful when you didn't want to collapse everything around you, like if you were in a cave.

Red light exploded out from his wand. It was fast. So fast, in fact, that it reached Rasputin several times faster than the sound of his incantation did.

No sound barriers were broken, however, because spells technically had no mass, and therefore couldn't push against air molecules.

However fast Harry's curse was, however, it still wasn't as fast as Rasputin. His Shashka blurred up, runes glowing menacingly, and severed the curse in half. The curse, losing all structural integrity, quickly shattered into nothing, dissipating into the air.

Then Rasputin dashed forward at inhuman speeds, Shashka aimed to cut Harry into pieces. That was smart of him. In a battle of spells, Harry would reign supreme every time. In a close range fight, however, Harry was at a severe disadvantage without a blade that can stand up to the might of drakon bone.

Harry cursed. As in he said a bad word, not that he actually cast a spell. He spun and Disapparated backwards to gain more space, wand already up and blurring.

Several more red lights shot out from his wand. Rasputin merely cut them once again, a dark grin on his face showing just how much he relished this fight. Then the shattered spells exploded behind him.

Rasputin once against showcased just why he was still alive even with half the world's magical population gunning after him. He twisted around impossibly fast, his Shashka held before him. A blood-red shield expanded from the blade, shielding Rasputin entirely. The explosions bombarded his shield, futilely, not even forming the slightest crack.

"Too weak!" He cackled out, before dropping the shield and resuming his sprint towards Harry.

Harry only smirked.

Rasputin, in his hurry to impale Harry, had failed to notice while the red spells had cracked and exploded, they still weren't gone. A normal Hellfire spell couldn't do this.

A multi-layered spell could.

Indeed, Harry had used Hellfire as the shell, then layered down a time-delayed Blasting Curse and Transfiguration. Rasputin had cut the outer shell of Hellfire, leaving both the Blasting Curse and Transfiguration untouched. The Blasting Curse had gone off, only leaving the Transfiguration.

The sparks that hung in the air formed into sharp metal spikes. There was no lengthy transition; it was simply a spark one moment and spike the next.

Accio!

One of Harry's most used spells. He had spent countless hours practicing this one spell over and over again, until he could do it first non-verbally, and then wandlessly. No matter how many times his fingers bled and his head throbbed with pain, he pushed through and mastered the charm. Because he was never going to let someone fall to their death again. No matter what.

Harry summoned the spikes towards him, spearing Rasputin in the back. A second later, a loud BOOM could be heard as the sound barrier was burst. Rasputin gasped, spitting out blood. His lung was punctured. Harry felt a vicious sense of satisfaction. Good. Let him be hurt. It's what he deserves.

His momentum cut off, Rasputin could only stumble. He grasped at the spikes in his chest as if not believing they were really there.

"H-h-how?"

"You could sense and react to offensive magic, magic meant to hurt and to kill. But against a simple transfiguration and summoning. . . well, your senses disregarded them as nothing. Don't worry, this lack of awareness is normal for people who're getting along in their years." Rasputin twitched at the insult, but was too busy trying to stem the blood flow.

Even as Harry spoke, he was blurring through more wand motions. From the ground came huge twisting pieces of wood, curling around Rasputin before hardening into petrified wood. Stalactites came crashing down in an identical fashion to what Rasputin had done to Harry earlier in the fight, forming a cage around Rasputin. Tendrils of shadows erupted from cracks in the ground, wrestling away the Shashka and bringing it to Harry.

Throughout all this, Rasputin only had a grin on his face. Harry stared back, unfazed. Rasputin was strong, yes, but against him, there wasn't much he could do.

He was, after all, Harry Potter, Prodigy of Hogwarts, the Fifth Marauder, and Apprentice of Dumbledore.

Even so, Harry couldn't help but feel that this was a little bit too easy. Rasputin was centuries old. He was a wily bastard, capable of evading the authorities that wanted his head. And he fell this easily? Were the ICW's HitWizards really that incompetent, or was it something else?

Harry reached towards the Shashka. Rasputin's grin grew wider. Oh HELL NO.

Harry didn't know what was happening, and he didn't want to know either. He immediately jumped back from the Shashka, banishing it simultaneously, but it was too late. The runes on the blade suddenly expanded off of the blade and clamped onto Harry's wrist.

Pain rushed into his body as negative emotions filled his mind.

DESTROY HATE MADNESS KILL BURN PILLAGE MURDER CANNIBALIZE TORTURE MAIM KILL DESTROY

Harry gritted his teeth and started applying Occlumency to shield his mind from the attack. His head cleared instantly, but it was too late. In the milliseconds that he was incapacitated by the sudden attack, even more runic script had left the blade and crawled onto his body, causing his skin to be entirely covered with runes.

"What is this?!" Harry yelled, expelling magic from all of his pores, trying to get the runes off. While some was forced off by the sheer power, much more stubbornly stayed on.

"Oh, well you see," Rasputin said, "I lied earlier. This blade… it's not my work. It belongs to someone much older than me. I'm sure you've heard of him. His name is Selimir."

Harry reared back, shocked. Selimir was one of the Vampiric Lords. He was millenia old, older than human civilisation itself. When humans had first begun the shift from nomadic to sedentary lifestyle, he was there drinking their blood. He was one, if not the most powerful vampire on the planet. To think that he was the one behind this. . .

"I'm sure the relevance of this location isn't lost on you either." Rasputin continued his monologue, uncaring of how the petrified wood was starting to contract and crush his body. "Machu Picchu was where the ancient Vampiric Lords had set up base to begin systematically gather blood. Humans from all over the world was brought to this place, hooked up to devices that would drain their bodies of blood but kept them alive, not letting them sleep or having any respite from the pain. For thousands of years, all of the negative emotions and death and pain and suffering was more than adequate to power the Cursed Flames to melt the drakon blood. And all the excess power didn't go to waste. It all went into the sword. For thousands of years, that sword had rested in the center of the mountain, absorbing all the power it can get for the vampires' final battle against the Gods themselves."

I see. It's similar to the Elder Wand then, only instead of memories, it collected pure magic in the form of human suffering, Harry thought.

Harry closed his eyes. This next spell was going to take a lot of concentration. He shaped the magic within himself, layering it and wrapping it around itself ten, twenty, thirty times. He increased the density and amount of magic until there was literally a glow of light surrounding him. He let himself get lost in the belief in the world, the faith and conviction present everywhere. Then he raised his wand and shouted three words that shouldn't have been able to be pronounced by the human tongue.

"- - -"

Let there be light.

A blast of holy light came down from the ceiling of the cave. It defied every known law of physics. It passed through the rocks and earth as if it wasn't there, radiant silver light bathing Harry in its rays. The runes dissolved, melting away, forced off of Harry by the sheer holiness of the light. Rasputin hissed, unable to look at it.

The Light of the Heavens. One of the few Divine spells in Harry's repertoire. It doesn't harm anything Good or natural, only cleansing out the darkness and evil. Creatures of nightmares perish beneath the blinding rays, and curses and even death is momentarily repelled.

The light then attacked the sword. The runes on the sword shifted, trying to escape the attack. Then it shattered.

No. That was wrong. Only the surface shattered. A glamour?

It was now a simple straight sword with a double-edge. It was nondescript, a simple blade. But the amount of power emanating off of it… it far exceeded anything Harry had seen in his entire life. So it had a surface layer both to conceal its true identity and the scope of its power?

Rasputin looked shocked when the light first came down and destroyed the sword's surface, but he quickly regained his wits.

"Unfortunately, the vampiric lords had become enemies of Grindelwald in the Great War. Quite foolish of them. They were massacred, with only a few being able to escape, Selimir being one of them. Not only that, but they were massacred here, at this exact location. Can you imagine it? The sheer amount of magical energy that beings thousands of years old would contain? All trapped within that sword that you now hold?! Do you think that the holy light is enough to destroy it?" Rasputin laughed out loud, giving off more of those rasping sounds.

Just as he said, the light tried its best to cleanse the evil from the blade, to vanquish it from existence, but it was all for naught. It slowly fizzled out, Harry being unable to maintain the Divine for a long time. The runes burst back into existence, faster now, as if it were angry. It leaped back onto Harry's skin and started growing again, this time targeting nerves as it did so. Harry hissed in pain as he cast several more spells at the runes to try and destroy them.

"How did you get this sword then? You can't possibly defeat Selimir in direct combat to take it from him." Harry was running out of spells he can cast. Purifying charms, Radiance Spells, Nullifying Curses. . . nothing seemed to hold back the runes. They were too powerful.

"He gave it to me, of course, on the sole condition that I'd use it to kill you."

"OH COME ON." Harry groaned. "When did I piss off Selimir? Wait, I take that back. When did I piss him off so much that he'd use a weapon reserved for a fight against the Gods to kill me?"

Rasputin shrugged. "It was what the Council decided."

Harry's eyes bugged out. The Council was a group of the oldest, most powerful nonhuman beings on the planet. Some disliked humans, other disliked each other, some disliked everything in general. They rarely decided on anything.

"You mean, one decided to do it right? And the others followed because it was too much trouble to argue?"

Rasputin shook his head. "Nope. It was a near unanimous decision to kill you. I've never seen them this unified on a matter before. It makes sense, though."

"What do you mean?! Why do they all hate me so much?"

Rasputin tilted his head. His lips curved up even further.

"Isn't it obvious? You're like Dumbledore, only much more violent and idealistic. They can tolerate Dumbledore because he's diplomatic and respects the balance of power. You, on the other hand, are willing to do anything to save lives. You upset the balance of power in the land, uncaring of tradition and treaties as you save the pitiful lives of humans. Actions have consequences."

Harry paused in his strugglings. "Ok, fair enough."

Rasputin chuckled. Then he gave a gasp of pain. The wood had already crushed most of his bones, and was currently grinding together the muscles. Blood was trickling out of the cracks.

Harry stared. According to his eyes and general knowledge of human biology, Rasputin's internal organs should be absolutely devastated by now. He should be dead. The pain itself should've been enough to send him into shock, and the blood loss enough to kill him.

"I see. So this is what they mean when they say you're unkillable. Is it regeneration, similar to Phoenix tears?" Harry mused, absently trying an ancient Chinese purifying spell on the runes. Bright yellow light flowed into the runes, trying to fight it off. It worked for a single moment, the runes momentarily stopping, before the sword gave another pulse of power and the light was snuffed out.

"Nope. No phoenixes were harmed in the making of my body, I promise."

Harry sighed. He really didn't want to use this, but his options were running out.

He took a deep breath, anchored himself, then exited Reality, scattering his atoms like the winds, leaving behind only a magical image. The runes, with nothing to hold onto, disappeared.

This was one of his most powerful abilities: the ability to Fade in and out of Reality. He anchors himself into Reality with thought and willpower, then, similar to Apparition, he scatters his atoms and forces his soul out of Reality into nonbeing.

Of course, this would be rather useless in battle if he had no senses to know what was going on. Returning to Reality right in the path of an Avada Kedavra won't exactly be a fun experience.

The question is how to acquire senses. Since he no longer had a physical body, only his soul and magic, he wasn't able to create organs of the normal sense. So he created magical ones.

An image of himself remained in Reality, albeit extremely transparent, created only by magic. No point in wasting magic on making it solid, after all. It was linked to him by a small stream of magic that started in Point A (the image) and ended in Point B (his soul) without actually transversing the distance in between, giving him instantaneous information.

Magic was cool like that.

As a result, Harry could still use all 5 senses even as he had no physical body. And he could see how Rasputin reacted when Harry escaped his sword.

Rasputin's grin widened even more. In fact, Harry could sEe small rips opening up where Rasputin's cheek muscles had pulled too hard. Oh, that was nasty.

What was he-

"NOW!" Rasputin shouted.

Harry hEaRd his shout, and immediately tried to go back into solid form, searching for the anchor and re-imagining himself back into reality. But it was too late.

The walls of the cave collapsed, revealing Twenty-Two nonhuman beings standing around. The Council, minus one member. The dirt on the ground burned away, revealing runes drawn into the ground.

This wasn't a simple runic array that could be drawn in an hour. The amount and complexity of these runes meant that it'd taken literal years to draw and power up. Harry could vaguely rEcOgNiZe Selimir standing on one corner of the pseudo-circle, his pale skin contrasting heavily with the blood on his lips.

He could also sEe the enemies he'd made over the years. A Faery, a Druid, a Sea Serpent, a Chimaera, a Succubus, and many more. All were powerful. All could destroy a country in a single day. And they were all there, pumping magic into the first layer of the runes.

Was he going to die here? Harry mentally gritted his teeth in anger, as he didn't have a physical body at the moment. He could take them one-on-one. In fact, he was confident that he could take on all of them at once, provided that could just return to solid state. With few Killing Curses here, a few Forbidden spells there, and a lot of Dark Magic in the middle, he could probably beat them back. Not kill them all, not defeat them all, but not die either. And against Twenty-Two of the most powerful beings on the planet, that was good enough.

But he couldn't fight back, not until he was actually able to cast magic. He needed to be in a physical form for that, and the runes on the ground prevented him from reforming.

How had they even managed to find a counter to his Fading? Did one of them reverse engineer the process? Even Dumbledore hadn't found a method to stop it yet. Actually, he probably had, but was saving it as an Ace-in-the-Hole just in case Harry turned his back on the Greater Good. The manipulative old bastard was like that.

But Harry still wished with all his might that Dumbledore was there. As much as Dumbledore annoyed him sometimes, he was still his teacher and loved Harry like a grandfather would.

(Harry ignored the voice in the back of his head that said that he loved him back just as much.)

Nevertheless, no matter what Harry did, he couldn't return back to a physical state. He suddenly felt fear, the first time in a very long time. Was this his fate then? Was he to remain less than a spirit, less than what Voldemort had been when his body was destroyed? Doomed only to be able to observe through the faintest wisps of magic he'd left on Earth, but never to interact and do anything?

Of course not. The Council wouldn't be content to just let him be. They'd want to kill him. The second layer of the runic layer activated as all Twenty-Two pumped magic into it. A lot of magic. A hell of a lot. Harry wouldn't be surprised if the shockwave created a 10.0 Richter Scale earthquake. And yes, he was aware of how the Richter Scale was exponential. He'd gotten a rather large lecture from Hermione when he said that a Richter 15 earthquake would probably only destroy a country. Turns out, it's enough to crack the Earth itself in half. Who knew.

The cave trembled, magic being the only thing holding it together. The second layer of the runic array cycled through the colors of the rainbow, before letting loose a focused beam of energy. Right at Harry's anchor.

Oh no. Oh hell no. With nothing holding him down to Reality, Harry would become nonbeing. Something thought impossible.

A voice that sounded suspiciously like Hermione whispered it's like you to be the first human to be Vanished. Your luck really is that terrible.

And like all Vanished objects, Harry would become unrecoverable. He wasn't even sure if he'd be granted the mercy of death, or if he'd be trapped with no sensory stimulus, with only his thoughts and magic to occupy him for all of eternity.

The fear that Harry felt got blown into full pants-crapping terror. This was bad. He blamed the ICW for this- wait. There was no way it was a coincidence that he of all people was sent. There was a traitor in the ICW then, or maybe the Succubus had seduced a member. Whatever the case, it was all up to Dumbledore now. There wasn't much that Harry could do anymore.

The anchor, the only thing that connected Harry to Reality, broke. There wasn't any sound. There wasn't even a flash of light. It just simply broke. And Harry lost all connection with Reality.

Instantly, all of his senses went dark. Sight, sound, touch, smell, taste. He received no information. The sudden lack of sensory input caused his brain to go into disarray. He probably would've lost his sanity if he wasn't using Occlumency at the moment to clear his mind. As it was, he still had to gather all of his magic around his mind in order to preserve his sanity.

His brain may not exist, but his mind does. One is physical, the other exists in the soul. And at this point, his soul and magic is all he has, and he may not even have that soon, as he slowly evanesces out of existence.

Harry tried to bite his lip. A habit he hadn't had since he was fourteen years old, facing Voldemort in that graveyard. There was nothing to bite, of course. There was nothing anymore.

Harry was reduced to nothing but a soul with magic wrapped around himself, trying to not let the nonbeing make him their own.

Thankfully, he still had access to his magic. Small miracles.

Harry didn't know how long he stayed like that, trying to resist being erased. The world didn't like how a being was in nonbeing, and was trying to rectify that mistake. Only magic pushed it back. That, and the thoughts of his friends. Ron. Hermione. Luna. Dumbledore. Their faces lent him strength.

Harry had lost all sense of time. Time was, after all, a mortal concept, and it could be argued that he was no longer a mortal. Hours, days, weeks, months, even years would have passed by him and he wouldn't have known.

But soon, it became too much for Harry. Even the thoughts of his friends and loved ones wasn't enough. There's only so much the mind could take before it started to fracture. And once his mind started to fracture, he'd lose his control over his magic. Then, with nothing to defend him, he'd become nonbeing. In essence, he'd die.

Harry didn't want to die. No matter how many times he joked about it, no matter how many reckless actions he took, he really didn't want to die.

Then he felt something. His magic had reached out in the nothingness, expecting nothing but finding something. A tear in Reality. A small tear, but it was enough for him to force himself through. Well, he was always taught to take advantage of the situation.

He let his magic guide him fOrWaRdSiDeWaYsBaCkWaRdUpDoWn. He had no sense of direction anymore. All he relied on was his magic. Just like always.

Then he passed through a small opening. Immediately, his magic sung out, reconnecting with the world. He was back in Reality. But he had no body. Quickly, he called his magic to return his atoms to him. But it didn't work. Where was it? Did the Council annihilate everything in a hundred-mile radius? That was one way to destroy his physical body when it was in its atomic state.

But that was extremely improbable. After all, his atoms were protected by his magic, and it required exponentially more magical power to destroy his atoms than it would to destroy his body.

Dumbledore had used a sand analogy to explain it. Destroying a sand castle was simple, absurdly so. But destroying the individual sand particles is much harder. Raw power wasn't enough, just like how you can't break sand by dropping it. Instead, you needed an extremely focused power to carve up each atom individually, breaking apart the magical defense and the bonds themselves.

Then Harry felt something force his soul and magic into a body that wasn't his own. All five senses returned to him in a rush. His mind, now with the normal sensory inputs, returned to normal. He quickly scanned his new body. Oddly, it was exactly the same as his old one. The only way he could tell it wasn't actually his was because there was none of Voldemort's taint on it.

Other than that, as far as Harry could tell, it was exactly the same as his own. Only this time, there seemed to be something tugging at his magic. Something connected to it. And he suddenly knew a new language. Japanese. What the hell? Whatever, he'll examine it later. But where was his wand?

Harry then looked around. He wasn't in Machu Picchu anymore. He was in a dark room. Moonlight streamed in through the double doors. There were boxes everywhere. A few pots, as well as a chest on a table. A storage closet, then? Whatever the case, he couldn't locate his wand anywhere.

A flash of panic went through him. Without a wand, he couldn't do most of his most powerful spells. He felt naked without it, as if he'd lost a limb. Whatever. He'll have to manage. Just to be sure, he tried to summon his wand. Pain tore through him at the attempt. He was severely weakened. His magic was taxed to the extreme in the nonbeing realm. He pushed through the pain, however, and managed to complete the spell. Nothing flew out to him. No familiar sight of a holly wand. So it truly wasn't there then.

He glanced down. He was wearing his normal white cloak, with a white shirt and white pants underneath. All of which were sparkling clean, as usual. He was standing on top of a. . . runic array?

It must've been one, but Harry didn't recognize the runes being used. It was arranged in a circle, and it was still glowing a pale blue color.

This must've been the cause of the tear in Reality, then. And it was what saved Harry from his fate of being deleted by the world.

Then Harry noticed the blood on the ground. Harry inhaled. Fresh blood. Where was he? What happened? The sound of metal clashing against metal brought him out of his reverie.

There were people fighting outside. And he hadn't noticed. In Harry's defense, after being trapped in nonbeing for so long, his mind was scattered and shell-shocked. He wasn't fully recovered yet, not to mention how his magic was debilitated and diminished.

Even so, even as his mind protested and his magic objected, he couldn't rest. There were people fighting outside. People could get hurt. And it was his responsibility to prevent that.

Hermione had always said he had a saving people thing. Luna had always just smiled at him, understanding why he did what he did. Ron just called him a batshit insane adrenaline junkie.

Dumbledore had called him a hero.

He exited the double doors out into a clearing. There were buildings enclosing the clearing. A few trees littered the ground, bringing nature into the picture. Asian architecture. Chinese, or perhaps Japanese?

Harry absently noted the stars' position in the clear night sky. They weren't right. Some were misplaced, others were where they physically cannot be, and some were missing altogether. Where the hell was he?

Then he shifted his gaze to the battle in front of him. He was standing next to a red-haired boy with Asian features who was focused on the fight in front of him. He had multiple cuts on him- was that blood coming from his heart?! There was a bloodstain right over his heart!

Out in the clearing stood a blonde-haired girl with emerald eyes. She was dressed in a blue and white skirt, and was covered with metal armor. Regardless of her wear, she was beautiful.

Facing against her was a man in blue. Blue hair, blue shirt, blue pants. He had red eyes and a red spear. Looks like he appreciated color coordination just as much as Harry did. Harry distractedly touched his white hair that matched his clothes while looking at the scene in front of him.

They were currently exchanging blows faster than the eye can see. Harry carefully applied magic to his eyes, speeding up its functions by a hundred-fold. The blurs slowed down- or rather, his eyes sped up. Every detail was seen in perfect clarity, from how the girl's hair flowed as she blocked the man's attack, to the minute tensing of the tendons in the man's neck as he thrust forward.

Then he analyzed the fight itself, and he saw something beautiful.

Every action, every stab and parry and slice, was perfect. There was no wasted movement like in the case of Rasputin. There weren't any grand dramatic motions, like what Voldemort had preferred. The two were experts of their tools. In all of history, they would be at the top of their respective weapons. And their technique showed it.

It was clean. It was efficient. It was methodical.

It was beautiful.

The red-haired boy suddenly noticed his presence. He gave a small yelp of fright as he jumped away from Harry. It was a quiet yelp, more of a murmur than anything, but somehow the two fighting heard it over the clangs of their attacks.

They both leaped back, looking at the new arrival with interest and suspicion.

"When did you get here? And how the hell didn't I notice you?!" The man in the blue asked, spear held at the ready, wary for any attacks.

The girl was much more direct. She rushed him, invisible sword held out to the side, fully intent on cutting him to pieces.

"Remove yourself from my Master's side." Her voice was cold and calm.

Harry pondered if he could block the blow. Probably not. The weapon could be enchanted to pierce shields. He wasn't recovered enough to be able to sense at his full capabilities, so he had no way of ascertaining its magical properties. So he spun in place, Apparating onto the roof of a building.

Both the man and the girl flinched. Odd. His Apparition didn't have the customary gunshot sound. It was completely silent. A skill Harry had perfected when he was only 15 years old.

"What the hell was that?" The man shouted. "Teleportation? True Magic?! Are you Caster?"

The girl only nodded in agreement. "I too would like to know."

Harry cocked his head in confusion as he addressed the man's questions.

"That was Apparition. Well, you could call it teleportation, but the formal term is Apparition. I don't know what you mean by True Magic. And no, I do not know who this 'Caster' is."

He supposed Caster could've been a title similar to wizard or sorcerer, but with the emphasis the man placed on the word, it must've been a name.

Harry stepped off of the roof, manipulating his magic around him to cancel his momentum the instant his foot touched the ground. He noted how the man and the girl's eyes flashed dangerously as they noticed how even though he dropped from a considerable height, no dust or dirt was disturbed by his landing.

The man grunted. "Who are you then? No normal magus can do what you just did."

Harry smiled, his emerald eyes seeming to sparkle in the moonlight as his white hair danced across his face in the sudden wind that blew across the clearing.

"My name is Harry Potter. It's a pleasure to meet you."

The man tilted his head. "Nope, never heard of you."

Harry felt a brief sense of irritation. Hadn't heard of him? Harry had probably saved the mortal world thrice over, and he hadn't heard of him? Were they living under a rock?

Wait. They hadn't heard of him. Which means they don't know who he is. Which means there are no preconceived notions, no expectations, no begging him to solve their problems because he was the damned Man-Who-Lived. That actually sounded nice.

Then he thought back to what the girl had said moments before.

"Wait. What do you mean by Master?!"

The girl simply stared back at him. "He is my Master, of course. If you claim you are not Caster, then what is your identity? How did you get here without Lancer nor I noticing your presence? You weren't here a moment before."

Harry shivered as he thought of the connotations. So she was that type, huh? But she looked awfully young. He looked over at the boy, who stared right back. Incomprehension melted into comprehension at Harry's accusing look.

The red-haired boy suddenly shook his head furiously.

"No! She didn't mean it like that! Don't take it that way!"

The boy's face was as red as his hair.

The man in blue- Lancer- gave a bark of laughter. "You have no idea what the Holy Grail War is, do you, Potter?"

Harry searched his mind for Holy Grail War. He couldn't think of anything, besides the legend of King Authur pursuing the Holy Grail. The Grail had been lost centuries ago. So why was there a war being fought over it? Even if they had found it, it wasn't exactly an all-powerful relic. It was similar to the Goblet of Fire: a pretty cool gimmick, but useless in the long run.

It would also be obscenely expensive. That could also be another motivator. Harry could see avarice everywhere he went. It's already been the cause of countless wars, why not another.

But even as he thought it, Harry discounted the idea. The man and girl in front of him didn't seem to be the greedy sort. They were both warriors. She was even dressed like a knight, for Merlin's sake.

"I'm afraid I don't know," Harry admitted with an embarrassed smile. "I'm not exactly sure how I arrived here. All I know is that I suddenly appeared on top of the runic array on the ground in the storage closet over there."

The man and girl stilled.

"The magic circle?" The girl asked, incredulity evident in her voice.

"Well, you could call it that. Now, I know it sounds unlikely, but I promise, I have no idea how I ended up h-"

"That is impossible." The girl spoke resolutely.

"Yeah, pretty sure that you're lying there." The man agreed. "I've never heard of one magic circle being able to summon 2 Heroic Spirits. Besides, even if you were telling the truth, who's your Master then? It can't possibly be that cur over there. . ."

His voice trailed off as his eyes widened. The girl also turned over to look at the red-haired boy. Shock overcame her beautiful features.

"2 sets of Command Seals?!" Both shouted.

Harry glanced over curiously. What were they- oh. On each of the boy's hands was a red rune. Were they the so called Command Seal then?

Then he realized something. The thing tugging on his magic was coming from one of the runes. Was it a control rune? Is that why the girl called him Master? Because she was trapped by his clutches, unable to break free of his control?

And was the same thing going to happen to him?

"So you are Caster then," the man growled. He shifted his stance so that he was facing both Harry and the girl at once. Harry tensed as he felt a large amount of magic gathering in the spear. In his weakened state without a wand, it'd be hard to win the fight.

Harry held up his hands in the universal gesture of surrender. "I'm not Caster. I'm also not looking for a fight here, actually."

The man grinned savagely, his blue ponytail swaying in the wind. "But a fight is what you'll get."

And with that, the man thrust forward, his red spear glinting in the moonlight.

"GAE" the man shouted out.

Harry didn't want to be around when he completed that incantation. He Disapparated away once more.

The man choked on spit. Although Harry didn't know it, he'd just done the impossible. Gae Bolg, the Barbed Spear that Pierces with Death, is an attack that reverses cause and effect, the effect being STABBED BY SPEAR and the cause being STABBING WITH SPEAR. It is undodgeable and unblockable unless the target possesses a high luck. Harry had no such luck.

Instead, Harry had removed the connection between him and the spear.

Apparition is a method of teleportation that involves the user anchoring themselves to reality by envisualising their destination and then scattering their atoms and going into the realm of nonbeing before reassembling themselves at the destination.

Unlike with Harry's time spent in nonbeing, however, since Apparition is instantaneous, there is no time spent in nonbeing, and thus there are no harmful effects.

It's a paradox; after all, if no time is spent in nonbeing, then the person isn't in nonbeing at all. Yet they must be in nonbeing, otherwise they cannot get from one place to another instantaneously. The laws of Reality state that to get from Point A to Point B, there must be time spent traveling the distance. The amount of magic that'd be required to overwrite that law is far too consuming, and it requires a lot more preparation- as is the case with Portkeys.

Portkeys override the laws of Reality itself, creating a wormhole that doesn't affect anything but the user utilizing it. The downside is that it takes a lot longer to create. A skilled wizard like Dumbledore could do it in seconds, but on the battlefield, that's too long for it to be viable.

Apparition, on the other hand, is much quicker because it technically doesn't violate the law; the user jumps from Reality into nonbeing then exits, traveling no distance in nonbeing and as such spending no time in nonbeing, only the exit point is a completely different point on Reality.

In essence, even though in Reality, the user has traveled distance, in nonbeing, he traveled no distance, which is why the time is zero and no laws of nature are being violated.

It was some mind-boggling stuff. Dumbledore had to explain it to him at least three times.

Harry's Fading took it a step further. He remained in nonbeing, his soul only being protected by his magic and thoughts. Since he's actually entering nonbeing and staying there, anti-Apparition wards do not work on him. Anti-Apparition wards work by preventing the user from exiting nonbeing through flooding the area with a specific type of magic. Since the user cannot exit, and they spend no time in nonbeing, they then cannot enter either. And if they can't enter nonbeing, then they can't Disapparate.

When people Disapparate, they don't have to do anything to protect their souls from the unraveling effects of being in the realm of nonbeing, since they're not actually entering nonbeing.

Harry has to, though. Through a mixture of luck and pressure, he discovered a method that allows him to resist the effects of nonbeing for a time by creating a defense around his soul. He's the only human in recorded history to be able to do this, however.

Normal people can't get their souls to be contained by magic without using physical means. A Horcrux, for example, is bound by a container. Ghosts are more imprints of a soul, so they don't count. But nothing physical is allowed to exist in nonbeing, for nonbeing is nothing.

Harry's soul is a unique case.

With the sheer amount of blood rituals used on him when he was a baby by his mother combined with the fact that his soul was constantly in battle with a shard of an insanely powerful dark wizard's soul mean that his soul is different.

He could, with clever application of magic, protect his soul from the nonbeing, thus being able to remain in nonbeing for some time.

Harry had no idea how he can do it.

Dumbledore had given up within a few months of examining Harry, proclaiming, "I'm already sleeping too little. I can't afford to lose any more sleep over an impossible problem. I still have to figure out whether the dragon or the egg came first. I hope you can understand, my boy."

Hermione took a bit longer to give up. It was in the middle of dinner in the Great Hall when she suddenly broke down in tears, saying "I-i-i can't. There's no way you can be alive. You shouldn't even be existing. You're too much for me to handle."

In retrospect, perhaps replying with "That's what she said" wasn't the best idea.

It was a new muggle joke that he'd been wanting to try out. If only it didn't land him in the hospital wing, it would've been pretty funny. Hermione was scary when she was angry.

The most ingenious part about Fading, however, was the fact that Harry can manipulate where his anchor is. Since he still has his 5 senses, he can see a new destination, and make his anchor go over there. Which means that even if he exited Reality in one point, he can re-enter wherever he wants.

Harry's Fading was overpowered. It really was.

Back to the battle.

When Harry had Disapparated, in the "time" spent in nonbeing, he wasn't in Reality. Gae Bolg wasn't precise enough to maintain a connection over the realms, and so by Disapparating, he'd severed the connection between him and Gae Bolg, negating the attack.

"So it IS True Magic." The man breathed out, a small hint of fear appearing on his face.

Lancer had no problems fighting Heroic Spirits, monsters, demons, Mages, and pissed-off women. He drew the line at fighting Sorcerers who can toss around True Magic like candy. So did his Master, it seemed.

The man in blue spun his spear around in a graceful arc so that it was behind him.

"Whatever. My job is to observe, not take on two Servants at once." He turned around to leave.

"Wait, Lancer!" The girl demanded. "You're running away?"

The man looked back. "You're welcome to chase me." Then his veins bulged out and he gave her a death glare. "But if you do, you'll die."

With that ominous threat, he jumped up and out of the clearing, much faster than any human could.

Harry watched him go with a small sigh of relief. His head hurt and his blood felt hot under his skin. Sweat dotted his back. Even the small applications of magic was too much for him to handle at the moment. If the man decided to attack again, he wouldn't be able to win.

The girl turned to face Harry, weapon once again held to her side. Not attacking immediately? Looks like she had a code of honor. Harry felt himself relax somewhat. This meant that diplomacy would probably work.

"I ask of you, are you my Master's Servant?" She said, this time looking slightly confused.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. There does seem to be some magic binding me to him, though." He pointed at the red-haired boy, who took a step back, as if expecting Harry to shoot a spell out of his finger.

The girl nodded. "I see. Although this has never happened before, it's clear that we're both Servants under the same Master."

The red-haired boy stepped in. "What the hell are you guys?"

The girl turned over to him. "As you can see, I am your Saber class Servant. As such, please call me Saber." And she gave him a small smile.

The boy's cheeks turned red again.

"I-i'm Shirou. Emiya Shirou," he stammered out.

Saber's eyebrows lifted. "Emiya?" She shook her head, then turned to Harry.

"Are you the Caster class Servant then?" Saber asked.

Harry scratched his head. "See, here's the thing. I have no idea what you just said."

Saber's eyes narrowed. "So you don't know of the Holy Grail War and your role in it?"

Harry shook his head. "Like I said, I have no idea how or why I'm here."

"The Grail should've given you all the information you need. You're speaking the language of this time, are you not? That was given to you by the Grail. But you claim that it did nothing beyond that?"

Harry nodded. So that was where the Japanese had come from. The Grail must be pretty powerful then. Language spells, while not unheard of, were still quite rare.

Saber looked at him suspiciously. "Very well then. I suppose I shall have no choice but to believe you. I hope that we can be good partners in this War."

"Umm. . . about that." Shirou spoke up.

Saber turned back towards him. "I know. You're not a proper Master, are you?"

Shirou seemed turn a bit redder. "Hang on, isn't it weird to start calling me Master all of a sudden like that?"

Saber regarded him cooly. "I shall call you Shirou, then." Then she directed her gaze at Harry.

"Just call me Harry," Harry said as he saw her unspoken question.

Saber nodded. She turned around and started walking. "Shirou and Harry. . . Yes, the sound of that is pleasing to me."

Then she stopped and turned to face a building.

Shirou suddenly flinched. He held up his hands. There was a red rune on the back of each of his hands.

"What are these?" He asked.

"Those are called Command Seals. Please, do try to avoid using them carelessly." Saber answered.

So Harry was right then! These "Command Seals" probably placed her under Shirou's control. Him as well. But then why does it sound like they'd just met? And that Shirou had no idea what the Command Seals were? Was there an outside force at work here?

"Harry, please back me up." Saber said. Then she knelt down and jumped straight up. Saber landed on top of the roof, surveying her surroundings.

"There are two enemies outside. Between the two of us, they shouldn't pose a problem."

"Wait, what do you mean by two enemies outside?" Shirou called out helplessly.

Harry rubbed his temples. His head really, really hurt. He just wanted to sleep, but he had to carry on. He spun once more, sending pain shooting across his body, Apparating next to Saber on the roof.

"What are we looking at?" He asked. Saber merely jumped down to the ground, motioning for him to follow. They were in a small street lit up by dim streetlamps. Nobody was around but a white-haired man with tanned skin wearing a red jacket and a black-haired girl. Who was very pretty.

She was prettier than Fleur Delacour, Harry realized. Then Saber dashed into action, breaking him from his thoughts. He's becoming delirious in pain. Best end this quickly.

He moved to help, but it soon became clear that no assistance was needed. The man had pulled out dual blades, a black and white one, out of nowhere. Saber and the man then exchanged a quick series of blows, but it was apparent to Harry who had the upper hand in skill.

Sometime throughout the fight, the girl had been knocked down, stunned by the ferocity of the blows not even 2 feet away from her, and was currently on her knees.

That brought Harry to action. As Saber moved to skewer the man, Harry cast a quick Accio at her. She came flying back, but much slower than usual. Wait, the spell stopped working. She was only pulled for about a foot before the spell died out.

Harry was speechless. He'd really only seen this happen when he tried to summon extremely magical resistant creatures, like giants or trolls. Who was Saber?

Even so, the summoning charm was enough to stop Saber's attack. She looked back questioningly at Harry, a small glare on her face.

"Why did you try to stop me, Harry? I would've cut them down with great ease." She asked, steel in her tone.

Behind Harry, Shirou seemed to have arrived as well.

"Saber, hold on. I have no idea what's going on." Shirou said.

"I'm clueless as well. Please, fill us in before you go around killing people who hasn't made any actions against you." Harry agreed. Although he didn't outwardly show it, that single summoning charm caused his condition to deteriorate even more. His vision began to blacken at the edges.

"You'd try to stop me on account of such a trivial thing when we're in battle?" Saber asked angrily.  
She turned around, ready to attack once more, when the girl on the ground hummed out loud.

"Ah, so that's how it is, my good novice Master." She said in a pleasant tone. She stood up, eyes closed as if in preparation. Then she opened them, revealing light blue orbs, and gave a brilliant smile.

"For starters, good evening, Emiya."

XxX

Against Saber's wishes, Shirou led the girl into his compound. He'd introduced the girl as Rin Tohsaka, his school's idol. As they walked into the rooms, Rin had performed a simple repairing charm on the broken window pane, expressing surprise that Shirou couldn't do the same. Shirou then surprised her by revealing that he'd fought Lancer alone. Well, not fought so much as tried to stay alive, but close enough.

Harry personally didn't care. He just wanted to collapse, but just in case Lancer returned, he had to remain vigilant.

The man, Archer, had already left, dissolving into light. Harry might've wanted to study that later, but for now, he let it pass without question.

Shirou, Rin, Harry, and Saber were currently in a Japanese-styled room. Tatami mats lined the floor. Sliding doors blocked the path to the hallway. They were all kneeling down on small purple mats. A TV was in the corner of the room (Harry edged away from it, afraid that it'd explode) and there were several vases filled with flowers decorating the room.

Rin and Shirou were sitting across from each other, a low rise table in the middle. Harry and Saber sat behind and to the side of Shirou.

Rin had taken off her red jacket, leaving her in a white and brown outfit and black skirt. She was sipping from a cup of tea that Shirou had made.

"Now, let's get down to business. You have no idea what this Master business is, do you?" She asked, leaning forward onto the table.

Shirou nodded. "No, I don't."

"To be blunt, you've been chosen as a Master. Have you noticed any stigmata on your body?"

"Stigmata?" Shirou inquired.

"She means Command Seals," Saber cut in from behind him. She'd dematerialized her armor the same way Archer had left, leaving her in a blue dress and white button up shirt.

Shirou gave a small noise of understanding. "Oh, these." He lifted up his hands inspecting the two runes.

"These?!" For the first time since Harry met her, Rin lost her cool. Her eyes were wide as she looked disbelievingly at Shirou's hands. "You have two sets? But how? That means you have two Servants already?" She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. When she opened them again, she'd regained her calm. Looks like she was the type to take everything in stride. Adaptable.

She then shifted her gaze towards Harry. "So you're also a Servant then? I was wondering why you were here. Are you Caster, or maybe Rider? You don't seem to be stealthy enough to be Assassin. And Berserker is out of the question"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I just appeared out of a 'magic circle.'"

Rin narrowed her eyes. "Two Servants appearing out of the same magic circle? Unheard of."

"He's telling the truth," Saber said. "As much as I doubt it, I was there when it happened. One moment there was nothing, the next he was there. The only way for him to appear without me or Lancer sensing him is if he was summoned. Added to the fact that Shirou has 2 sets of Command Seals, and the conclusion is clear."

"What are Command Seals anyways?" Shirou asked, looking at the red runes on his hands. Harry also focused his gaze. This was something that he too wanted to know.

Rin shifted her gaze back at him. "They mark you as a Master. They're also spells that control your Servant. So as long as you have them, you can keep your Servant under control."

"What do you mean by 'as long as you have them?'" Shirou asked.

Rin clasped her wrist. "Command Seals are inviolable orders-"

Wait. "Hold up. Inviolable?" Harry interrupted.

"Yes. They force a Servant, that is to say, you, to obey, even if it means bending you to your Master's will."

Harry stiffened. It sounded suspiciously like the Imperious Curse. He looked at Shirou warily.

Shirou noticed. "Hey! I'm not going to do that to you."

Harry ignored him. The pain in his head was getting to an intolerable magnitude. He addressed Rin.

"Are there any methods known to disobey one?"

Rin shook her head. "Nope. A Master only gets 3 inviolable orders though."

Harry examined the runes on Shirou's hands. He should be able to disable them easily enough. Perhaps a tri-pronged nullifying orb combined with a demolish rune? Worst comes to worst, he can always just cut of Shirou's hands.

"Shirou Emiya," Harry used Shirou's full name to convey the seriousness of the situation. "If you ever order me to harm an innocent, then I will not hesitate to kill you before the first word passes your lips."

Shirou looked insulted. "I would never!"

"Good."

Rin watched the two of them pensively. "Back to Command Seals. Shirou, if you use all of them up, then you'll probably die."

Shirou jerked back. "What?"

"That's right. The Holy Grail War is based around Masters defeating other Masters. The Master who defeats the other six wins the Holy Grail, which can grant any wish."

What? The Holy Grail can do what now? This piece of information was enough to startle Harry out of his lethargic state, but only for a moment.

"Hey, hold on a second. What do you mean by the Holy Grail?" Shirou demanded.

"Long story short, you've been dragged into a ritual. One called the Holy Grail War, fought by seven Masters. A battle to the death between mages."

That sounded very similar to the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament. Minus the battle to the death part, of course.

"Come on, do you expect me to believe any of this?" Shirou asked desperately, hoping it was just a joke.

"Do not underestimate wizards," Harry spoke up again, "Their perception of what is allowed isn't exactly normal. She's telling the truth."

At least, he thinks she is. He wasn't going to be like Dumbledore and dive into her head with Legilimency, though. That was one thing he'd never agreed on with Dumbledore.

The mind is a palace that deserves privacy. Harry didn't have any right to violate it. Unless he was in a life-and-death situation. Even then, it must pass all of Harry's moral tests before he'll actually do it.

Huh. Perhaps Voldemort had scarred him more than he thought.

"Indeed," Rin said. "Besides, it should be clear to you. You've been nearly killed by a Servant not once, but twice."

Harry noted the bloodstain over Shirou's heart. It appeared he'd met someone with luck just as bad as his.

"I'm another mage chosen to be a Master," Rin continued. "Think of your Servant as a familiar that'd help you survive through the Holy Grail War. Servants, in your case."

Familiar? Was that supposed to be an insult? According to Harry's knowledge, which was a pretty large amount, familiars were just animals that'd formed a bond with a human. They gained human-like intelligence as well as a few magical abilities, but that was it.

Harry had never had a familiar though. His. . . condition meant that no animal would want to get close enough to him to bond with him. He knew Dumbledore had a familiar bond with Fawkes, the phoenix. What he would give to have Fawkes next to him right now, singing his song.

His vision was getting blurrier. He should probably lie down or something. He got out of his kneeled position, and sat down cross-legged, elbow resting on his knee, hand propping up his head. There. That's better.

Rin, Saber, and Shirou looked at him curiously. Then they focused back on Rin.

"Familiar? They don't seem like familiars to me." Shirou said. Thank you. At least one of them made sense.

"You're right. Servants are technically familiars, but they're superhuman beings, heroes from the past."

Harry's blood froze to ice. His vision sharpened at once as he pumped the last vestiges of power through his body. The past? Just how long was he inside the nonbeing realm?

Unaware of his inner turmoil, Rin continued. "Servants are heroes from the legends, pulled from the past or present into our time and given form."

Heroes of legends? Well, Harry supposed he'd qualify. But the Lancer dude hadn't recognized his name. Which means that he wasn't famous after his death? Harry wasn't sure how to feel about that. On one hand, he disliked fame and popularity, as it came with many negative drawbacks. On the other hand, he would like to be remembered more than a single paragraph in a history book. Half a chapter, at the very least.

Unless his life wasn't interesting enough? No way. It had to be fascinating. In fact, Harry was sure that if someone had documented his lives into, say, 7 books, and sold them, it'd become the most popular book series in the world.

Which could only mean that he was probably still in the present.

"It's the Master's role to summon the Servants, who are then manifested into Reality by the Holy Grail. Servants are basically always with you when they're in spirit form, who you can then materialize when there's a need to fight."

Oh. So that's what happened to the Archer guy. Harry knew of the spirit form, but he'd never really researched it that deeply after he discovered Fading. It requires great skill and power, far more than Apparition or even using a Portkey, which is why it fell out of fashion.

Shirou seemed to have come to the same conclusion. "That's how Archer did it."

Rin hummed in confirmation. "I'm having him on sentry duty for the time being. So, do you understand everything so far?"

"I understand your words. Your ideas? Far less." Shirou said.

"I have questions," Harry said. It was less of a request and more a fact. They all turned to face Harry.

"Yes?" Rin said.

"First of all, what year is it?"

"2004."

Same year then. Thank Merlin.

"Do you know of the name Harry Potter?"

"No."

Harry deflated at that. He wasn't expecting anything, really. But it seemed as if everyone knew who he was. Whether it was for surviving the Killing Curse, defeating Lord Voldemort, or obliterating the Demonic Tribes, people had at least heard of his name.

The fact that she didn't unsettled Harry. Was this even the same world he'd left?

"How many days in a year?"

Rin tilted her head at the odd question. "365. Didn't you use the Gregorian calendar when you were alive?"

"I did. Do you have a Floo fireplace that I can use to connect to the British Ministry of Magic? Or even the International Confederation of Wizards?"

"What are those?"

So she didn't know. From the blank looks on Shirou's and Saber's faces, they didn't know either.

Was he really in another world?

It was possible. Dimension-travel cases, while practically unheard of, existed. Of course, everyone was dead on arrival in those cases. So how had he- Oh.

That's right. His unique soul.

If he'd been inside nonbeing, which theoretically could be connected to an infinite amount of worlds, since nonbeing is the same in every world, then he could have been transported to another world. And this magic circle. . .

From the sounds of it, it seemed to defy both space and time. Time in which it summoned a hero of old, and space when you considered just where the dead souls were. So a crack in Reality, then. A crack that Harry had exploited when he was in nonbeing.

That was why every other dimensional traveller had died. They weren't able to survive prolonged exposure to nonbeing. In fact, they probably couldn't survive any exposure to nonbeing at all. Their soul was crushed, and when they fell through a crack, the world gave them a body but it had no soul to power life.

Unlike with Dementors, if a human born has no soul to begin with, then he's going to die unless powered by magic. Sucking the soul out of a human that already had a soul would only. . . reset them, so to speak, not outright kill them.

Harry could survive nonbeing, however, and with no anchor left to bring him back to his own Reality, he'd forced himself through a crack into another one. That explained why nobody knew of him, as well as the stars' weird positions in the sky.

After all, when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.

. . . did he just quote Sherlock?

"Nevermind. I understand now. Just to be clear, Shirou, did you summon me on purpose?" Harry continued his questioning.

Shirou looked startled that the question had been directed at him.

"N-no. I didn't. I don't know how I summoned either of you, actually."

So he hadn't took control of them on purpose. That was good, he supposed. He could've had a Master that wanted to be a God-King.

Rin set down her cup. "Yes, well, for a more detailed explanation of the Holy Grail War, talk to the man overseeing the War."

A man overseeing a War? Was he like Dumbledore, then? Already, Harry had envisioned an old man with a long white beard badly dressed in eye-searing colors offering candy with a strategic map behind him.

"All I can tell you is that you have no choice but to fight, and your Servants are powerful entities that you should use well."

A War where the fighters had no choice whether or not to participate? Harry didn't like the sound of that.

"Now then," Rin said to Saber, sipping the last of her tea from the cup before setting it down and refilling it with a kettle on the table. "From what Emiya had said, you're in an incomplete state?"

"Yes. As you say, I am not at my full fighting strength," Saber confirmed.

"And you?"

"I'm not either, though I don't think that's Shirou's fault. It's just that. . . well, there were extenuating circumstances at play. It's not that bad though." Harry understated. In truth, everything hurt really, really bad. He could barely keep his eyes open. The previous surge of power had left him feeling drained and tired.

"Shirou is not a fully-trained mage, so replenishing my mana would likely be difficult for him." Saber inferred.

Replenishing mana? Harry assessed his magic levels. While his magic was weakened, it was still refilling at a steady rate. Nothing a full night's sleep wouldn't rectify. Sleep. That sounded good. But he had to stay awake for all the information he can get.

"That's shocking," Rin said. "Servants get the mana they need to remain from their Master. But since you're a frankly terrible magus who can't even manage the most basic spells, this is going to become a problem soon. Especially considering you have 2 Servants drawing on your mana."

Drawing on Shirou's mana? Remaining in Reality from the mana supplied from Shirou? Harry was dead tired, but he was still able to sense that beyond the Command Seal, nothing else linked him to Shirou. There was no flow of magic, nothing.

"Although I have to admit, I didn't expect you to be so upfront with me." Rin said to Saber.

"You had already realized that something was wrong. There was no point in hiding the obvious. In which case, the best course of action was to let both Harry and Shirou to know what was wrong, so that we can address the problem sooner than later. If it meant letting an enemy know, so be it." Saber replied.

Rin raised her cup of tea. "I see, so you're a woman of outstanding character then. Logical and smart, too." She took a sip. Then she slammed the cup down onto the table, the steaming liquid getting onto the table.

"Damnit! What a waste!" she mourned. "If I was Saber's Master, then this War would be already won."

Harry took back what he'd thought about her being able to take everything in stride. She was just putting on a mask, it seems.

She then turned over to look at Harry. "Don't tell me. You're probably an overpowered mage too, right?"

Shirou brightened. "Oh yeah. Lancer had said something about you knowing True Magic. What did he mean by that? It looked really cool when you did it."

Saber looked at Shirou as if he was stupid.

"Why tell an enemy-"

She was cut off by Rin's gasp. Her face had paled dramatically. "Y-y-you know True Magic?"

That wasn't a reaction that Harry was expecting. Was Apparition really that rare here?

"If by True Magic you mean teleportation, then yes."

Rin grabbed her head and turned around. "A sorcerer too? That's not fair." she whined.

Shirou felt as if he should be insulted. "Hold on. Are you saying that I don't deserve to be Harry and Saber's Master?"

Rin's reply was immediate and curt. "Of course I am, you third-rate mage."

Well, Harry couldn't exactly argue with that. Not even being able to use the repair charm at such an old age did point out detriments in Shirou's magical education.

Wait. He was in a different world. That's right. Things were different here. New terminology, new customs, maybe new magic altogether.

"Now then," Rin stood up, "Shall we go?"

Shirou blinked. "Go where?"

"To see the man who knows everything there is to know about the Grail War."

"This late though?" Shirou asked. Harry was confused. Had he never pulled an all-nighter to research a spell before? It was only around 2 in the morning. To be fair, Harry didn't want to go either. His head was pounding really hard, and he could barely see through the black fuzz in his vision.

"Well, if you don't want to go, that's fine. What about you, Saber? Harry?"

"Wait, don't bring them into this. Don't try to strong-arm them." Shirou protested, standing up and waving his hands back, as if protecting Saber and Harry from Rin.

Rin was taken aback before giving a devious smile. "Oh? So you don't want me talking to Saber then? You're acting like a true Master, I see. Is that jealousy I detect?"

Shirou blushed. "I-it's not like that."

Harry wholeheartedly agreed. He wasn't gay, damnit. He liked girls, and only girls. Thankfully, Rin hadn't implied anything going on between Harry and Shirou. Harry shivered as he thought about some of his fangirls back home.

Even worse: his yaoi fangirls. Harry liked Dumbledore, yes, but not that way. Harry quickly repressed those thoughts.

"Besides, you said that Harry and Saber are heroes of the old, right? So they won't make much sense of the modern world." Shirou forged on with a blush on his face, trying to salvage the situation.

"Incorrect, Shirou," Saber spoke up from behind him. "Servants adapt to whatever time period and location they find themselves in. It is why Harry and I know Japanese, even though we've likely never stepped a foot in Japan before. I am well-versed in this time period. Doubly so, because I've been summoned here before."

"No way. What are the odds?" Rin breathed. She turned to Harry. "Let me guess, it's the same for you?"

Harry frowned. "Before we continue, let's clear up some misunderstandings. I am not a Hero from the past. I live in this time period. I am familiar with the modern world, not because of the Holy Grail, but because I live in it. And I had been since 1981."

Rin's jaw dropped. Not much, but enough to be noticeable. "You're only 23 years old? Wait, you said that you 'live' in this time period. Have you even died yet?"

"I did undergo something similar to death recently. Wait. I did died before, but I got better." Harry said, thinking back on his time spent in nonbeing as well as his resurrection in the Final Battle.

"Resurrection? Well, you do know True Magic, so it isn't that much of a stretch." Rin mused. Then she blinked. "That's impossible. The Holy Grail can't summon someone who's alive."

Harry leaned forward. "That's the thing. I don't think I was summoned. I mentioned undergoing something similar to death, and the only way for me to escape was to exit through a small crack. That crack was the magic circle. I think that the magic circle had momentarily weakened the structures of Reality, letting me squeeze through."

"That's. . . that actually makes some sense. So you were given the knowledge of the language as well as the 3 Command Seals because that's what the Holy Grail does when creating your new body. But how did it create your body if you hadn't died yet?" Rin pondered.

"I was willing my atoms to return to me with my magic. Perhaps the Holy Grail read my broadcasted magic, and duplicated the effect?"

"Yes, that might work. I've never heard of a case like that before though, so I can't confirm. Wait. Do you even feel a mana connection to Shirou then? If you hadn't died, then you should still be able to draw mana from your surroundings."

"I can. I don't feel a connection between Shirou and I, besides the Command Seals. However, I admit that I don't know anything about the Holy Grail or magic circles, so I cannot be certain of how this actually happened."

Speaking of which, Rin had said that the magic circles summoned heroes from legends. Harry stared intensely at Saber. Who was she then?

Saber noticed his gaze immediately, turning to look at him. When Harry didn't avert his eyes, she blushed a bit. "What is it?"

"Oh, my apologies. I'm only trying to figure out who you are. Rin said that you're a hero from a legend, right? Are you Atalanta?" Harry ran through all the myths and legends in his head, but blonde women weren't exactly remembered in history very often.

"No!" Saber shouted. That was a strong reaction. "Ahem. I apologize for that outburst. No, I am not Atalanta."

"Who are you then?" Shirou asked, now also looking at Saber.

She hesitated. "Normally, Servants would tell their Masters their true identity so that they can plan with each other's full power in mind. However. . ."

"Let me guess," Rin said, "Since Shirou is only a third-rate magus, he can't defend his mind very well. People could read his thoughts and discern your true identity."

Saber nodded, a downcast expression on her face. "Shirou, you have to understand that it's imperative to keep my identity a secret, because if people know my true identity, then they can create plans to defeat me. You cannot keep a secret through no fault of your own. As such, I cannot tell you who I am. I'm not like Harry, who nobody has ever heard of before."

Ok then. Harry wasn't even mad. She was right, after all. There was no Harry Potter in this world.

He pitied this world.

Saber then looked back up with a determined expression on her face. "However, even though I cannot tell you my true identity, I hope that it will not come in between our Master-Servant bond. I will still fight to my fullest to defend you. I am your blade that will follow your every command."

Shirou turned red again. Harry couldn't blame him. While Saber's intentions were honorable and even admirable, her words carried some. . . unintentional hidden meanings behind them.

"Now that's the spirit," Rin clapped her hands together, an innocent smile on her face. "Shall we go now?"

Saber stood up. Even that simple motion was performed gracefully. "Yes. Where will we be going?"

"To the church in New City." Rin said.

Harry wanted to go, he really did. He needed more information. But he was reaching the end of his ropes. He was already past running on fumes.

"About that. I'm sorry, but remember how I recently underwent something similar to death?" Harry brought up.

Rin, Saber, and Shirou all stared at him on the ground. This time, they actually looked closely, past Harry's healthy surface and into his true state of matter. He was sweating hard. His skin was rosy, but it seemed artificial. His eyes were bloodshot and somewhat shell-shocked. His entire body was trembling, almost imperceptibly. Even though on the surface he appeared healthy, when they actually examined him closely. . .

"You look terrible," Saber said, a tiny bit of shock in her voice.

"No, she's serious. You look healthy, but it's as if you're dying from the inside out." Rin agreed.

"Are you okay?" It was Shirou who asked this question.

Harry mentally facepalmed. The guy with a bloodstain over his heart was asking if he was okay. He appreciated the sentiment though.

"Yeah, I should be fine. I just need to rest a bit. You guys go on ahead to the church. Fill me in later, okay?"

And Harry gave one last smile, vision nearly entirely black and pain stabbing deep in his head.

He used the last of his energy to cast some protective enchantments around him. There was no such thing as being too paranoid, after all.

Then, once he was certain he'd be safe, he passed out, blissfully entering sleep.


	2. Berserker

"Harry, Harry, Harry. What have you gotten into this time."

Harry didn't want to open his eyes. He knew that voice. He didn't like that voice.

"Oh, I'm hurt. You won't even look at me? You did try to kill me for a decade. What more, you succeeded! Don't you want to gloat?" That sing-song mocking tone pissed Harry off like none other can.

Damnit.

Harry opened his eyes and found himself in a familiar place. He was a clearing. Deciduous trees formed a circle around it. The air was sweet, smelling like fresh-cut grass and flowers. The sky was blue, slightly cloudy but not too much so that it wouldn't block the sun. It would've been a beautiful sight if it weren't for the man standing in front of him.

He had no nose. His face was deathly white. His eyes were red, the color of Harry's nightmares.

Lord Voldemort.

This was the man, no, monster who'd almost succeeded in taking over Magical Britain and indeed the muggle world.

This was the man who'd created a contract with Demons, kept his mind while doing so, and reversed the roles so that he was the master of them and not the other way around.

This was the genius who awed everyone at Hogwarts with his feats of magic that none has done before. This was the insanely brilliant or brilliantly insane man who'd created not one, not two, but seven Horcruxes.

He was said to be on par with Salazar Slytherin, one of the Four Founders of Hogwarts. Harry and Dumbledore disagreed.

He'd surpassed Slytherin in knowledge, talent, and power a long time ago.

All the death, destruction, and loss in Harry's life? It could be traced back to him.

Harry only pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly.

"Can't you go bother someone else? Just leave me be." He said in a tone that suggested this wasn't the first time this has occurred.

Voldemort laughed.

"Oh, Harry. You should know by now. I'm with you forever~"

The sad thing was, he's correct.

Lord Voldemort, rather, the true Lord Voldemort, was dead. There was no question about it.

Lord Voldemort had, however, attached a Horcrux to Harry. Unintentionally? Yes. But he still did, and it meant that Harry had a piece of a Dark Lord's soul digging into his own.

It was only through Lily's blood rituals that kept Voldemort from taking over. That, and Dumbledore's spellcraft.

Even after Harry destroyed the Horcrux, well. You can't have a soul digging into another soul for 19 years without any side effects.

Long story short, Lord Voldemort's soul had left a residue of sorts on Harry's own. An infinitesimal amount, but enough to make a difference.

Not during the day. When Harry was awake and alert, he could shut out Voldemort easily. He didn't even need Occlumency to do so; he could just think of a song in his head. Soon, Voldemort got the idea and stopped trying to talk to Harry in the day.

No, Voldemort came out to play at night when Harry was asleep. Even then, he can't do anything to Harry. He can't possess Harry, he can't influence Harry, he can't torture Harry.

He can, however, annoy the shit out of Harry.

"So, personally, I think you should torture that boy. Shirou, was it? Come on. . . you know you want to. He put a control rune on you. It's only fair that you pay him back. Don't worry, I'll even give you pointers." As Voldemort spoke, he twirled his fingers and a dummy with red hair materialized out of thin air.

Harry only groaned. "Shirou didn't do it intentionally. Besides, you're a part of me. You're literally in my dreamscape every night. We're stuck with each other until I die, so please, can you at least make yourself bearable?"

"Nope!" It should be a crime for someone with no nose to look so happy. Harry would be repulsed if he didn't see the same thing every god damned night.

"First off, why not pull out his fingernails. It's a bit barbaric, but it should get the point across." Voldemort pointed dramatically at the dummy.

"Fingercus Removus!" The nails were ripped off with a sickening sound.

Harry called bullshit. "That's not a spell," he said with a deadpan stare.

Voldemort stared back, his red eyes boring into Harry's.

"It is."

"Isn't."

"Is."

"Isn't."

"Is."

"Isn't."

"Isn't."

"Is."

Wait.

"Goddamnit Voldemort. I'm not doing this with you again."

Voldemort put his hand over where his heart had once been. "Oh, Harry, don't you trust me? I am a genius, after all. Isn't it conceivable that I invented a spell with the incantation 'Fingernus Remova?"

"That's not even the same incantation! You said 'Fingercus Removus" last time!"

"Well, I am a genius. I could've improved the spell in the time we had our little argument. And if I had to alter the incantation to give the spell a boost, so be it. Look!" Voldemort pointed his finger at the dummy again.

"Fingernus Remova!"

Nothing happened.

Voldemort scratched the back of his head. "Oh. I already ripped off his fingernails. Hold up, let me rematerialize them."

Harry held up his hand. "Don't bother. This is a dreamscape. You can do anything in it. You don't even need an incantation, you can just think it and it'll happen."

Voldemort crossed his arms. Glasses and teaching robes appeared onto him.

"Now now, Harry, don't think that you can do anything in it. You haven't been able to remove me so far."

"Something that I've been trying to do every day." Harry said. He sat down onto the grass. "Chess?"

Voldemort shrugged. "Why not."

Playing chess with Voldemort- that sounded weird- was one of the only activities Harry could do with Voldemort without wanting to bang his head on the wall.

Even as he formed the set, he glanced at Voldemort, who'd created a tiny golden throne for him to sit on. It was hard to believe that this was the Dark Lord who'd terrorized the world.

He still remembered their first meeting in the dreamscape. Harry had thrown Avada Kedavras at him, Voldemort threw them back, and it wasn't until 5 minutes later that they both realized something wasn't right. They can't use multiple large-scale transfigurations and army-melting spells in one go without feeling any negative drawbacks or any exhaustion. They were both good at magic, but they weren't that good.

They soon discovered that they were in Harry's dreamscape. It took Voldemort about 2 minutes to deduce the soul theory, which was later confirmed by Dumbledore.

It took even longer for Voldemort to become amiable. At first, he'd been nothing but rage and insanity, screaming and threatening every time Harry fell asleep. However, being a ball of negativity 24/7 was hard, even for a Dark Lord. Especially since it seemed to have no effect on Harry.

Then Voldemort realized something. He realized something that Harry wished he'd never realized.

Annoying Harry was a lot more fun than repeating the same empty threats every time.

And so, Voldemort redirected his genius, once used to master the darkest of magic and the unholiest rituals, to coming up with new ways to annoy the shit out of Harry.

"Alright, I'm white and you're black." Harry said, giving the chess pieces color.

Voldemort held up his hand. "That's boring. How about this. I'm gold, because I'm awesome," Voldemort's pieces shifted to a bright golden color, "and I made up a new color for you. It's called Gay, because you're-"

"I'M NOT GAY FOR DUMBLEDORE. STOP SAYING THAT."

Voldemort tilted his head. "You don't have to hide it from me. You can be your true inner self with me. Don't worry, I understand. It must be hard concealing your feelings, right? It must be even harder concealing something else whenever you see Dumbledore, if you know what I mean."

Harry groaned. "That was terrible."

Voldemort preened. "Thank you. Besides, you should accept yourself. I encourage you to embrace your true feelings."

Harry put his head in his hands as he mentally cursed whoever it was that spread the rumor that he was gay for Dumbledore. Even worse, that bastard had told Rita Skeeter, who promptly wrote an article detailing Harry's deviant ways.

Even Ron and Hermione had believed it for a moment, leading them to cornering him in a classroom, and lecturing Harry while blushing and stammering about how age gap limits exists for a reason, and the age gap between Harry and Dumbledore was waaayyyyyy too large to be justified. Harry's shout of denial had them wincing for hours afterward.

Harry supposed he did spend a lot of time with Dumbledore back in the day. But it was for a good reason: he had to train to defeat Voldemort.

Voldemort had had a 70 year head start on him, so Harry had to catch up quickly if he wanted to even register on Voldemort's radar.

Harry absently moved his chess piece. Apparently, the color Gay was exactly the same color as Dumbledore's skin. Wait wait wait NO HE'S THINKING OF DUMBLEDORE WITH HIS CLOTHES OFF.

Harry glared at Voldemort, who simply smiled back. Voldemort had an uncanny ability of predicting what Harry would think. And it was clear that Voldemort chose the color for this exact purpose.

"Your turn, bastard."

And so the game progressed, Harry trying to checkmate Voldemort but Voldemort outmaneuvering him at every move so that soon, Harry was close to a defeat.

Then Harry paused. "That wasn't a rook a moment ago."

Voldemort blinked innocently. "Are you sure? I think it was a rook."

Harry shook his head, confused. "No, that was definitely a pawn a moment befo- OHYOUSUNUVABITCH."

Voldemort only laughed again. "I'm surprised it took you this long to notice."

"You were changing the pieces all this time?!"

"Well, only some of the pieces."

"You cheater!" Harry accused Voldemort.

Voldemort shrugged. "If you're not cheating, you're not trying. Welcome to life, my dear Harry. Although your lack of awareness is quite troubling."

Harry could only shake his head in exasperation. "In my defense, I was thinking about my situation. Waking up in another world, and in the middle of a War no less. . ."

Voldemort sniffed imperiously. "Well, if you managed to defeat me, then I don't think these trash would pose any problems to you. I am, after all, the pinnacle of awesomeness, the apex of everything."

"Tell that to Dumbledore," Harry grouched. There was only so much arrogance he could take.

"I mean, I did defeat him in that one duel."

"That was because you had the Elder Wand! A wand that you only got because you threatened first-year students if he didn't give it to you! What's more, once you received it, you killed one of them anyways!" Harry shouted.

"Well. I am evil. What did you expect?" Voldemort slammed down his queen triumphantly.

"Checkmate!"

Harry sighed. It appears that he'd have to scratch chess off of that ever-shrinking list of tolerable things to do with Voldemort.

Harry waved his hand, the chess board, pieces, and dummy disappearing with a single thought.

"Say, do you know how long we were trapped in nonbeing?" He asked.

With the mention of that, Voldemort lost all traces of levity. "No, I don't. I was too busy trying to reinforce your magic to prevent us from dying."

Harry paused. "You can do that?"

"Yes. I may be a tiny imprint of a shard of soul, but I still have knowledge that I can inject into your magic. Sadly, it cannot be used against you, only in support. What, did you really think we lasted as long as we did because of your magic alone?" Voldemort scoffed. "It was only my genius and quick reaction times that allowed us to remain as long as we did. Your magic had a lot of cracks that nonbeing could slip through, and it was up to me to direct your magic to block those cracks. You're welcome, by the way."

Harry shook his head, confused. "I don't understand. Don't you want me to die?"

Voldemort stared at him as if he was an imbecile. "If you die," Voldemort said slowly as if he was speaking to a young child, "then I die too. And I don't want to die. Ever."

Oh right. Afraid of death and all that. Harry had almost forgotten.

"In any case, your new body seems to lack my taint on it." Voldemort added.

Right. It seemed so long ago when Voldemort had performed that ritual in the Graveyard back then. Voldemort had used Harry's blood to create a new body, then simultaneously using the energy released by the ritual as a catalyst to forge a contract with the Demons.

Say what you will about Voldemort, but he truly was a genius of the highest degree. Harry didn't even think that was possible, to harness the excess energy from a ritual for something else, until Voldemort did it in front of his eyes.

Whatever the case, Harry's involvement in the ritual, even though he didn't have a choice, meant that his body was tainted. He and Voldemort shared the same blood, and Voldemort had used that blood to forge a contract with the Demons. And since blood was an excellent conductor of magic, that meant that Harry was indirectly linked to Demons.

Nobody liked demons. Not even Voldemort.

This was the reason as to why animals didn't want to be near him at all. They could sense the link, no matter how faint, with a primal part of their mind. And the link terrified them.

Even Fawkes had to be persuaded by Dumbledore with a basket of treats before he allowed Harry to step even 10 feet within his presence.

Thankfully, it appeared this new body didn't have the link, the taint anymore. Since the medium was blood, that meant the link originated from physical means.

Harry was connected to Demons because of blood, not soul, which meant in this new body, where his blood was identical yet different at the same time, the link did not exist.

"As such, I think we can safely discount some of my more. . . wild theories as to where we are." Voldemort continued, now taking up a teacher persona. It was kind of scary to see how well Voldemort did it, actually.

Perhaps Dumbledore was wrong when he said Voldemort only wanted the teaching position to brainwash the youth. You can't be that good at teaching without enjoying it at least somewhat.

"Your soul is connected to your body and cannot be separated until death. Since you have a new body that isn't identical to your old one, we must assume that something has cut the connection to your old body. Since a connection is able to be maintained in nonbeing, it must be in another world different from both our own and nonbeing."

That made sense. If Point A was Harry's homeworld then Point B was nonbeing. A connection could be maintained between the two realms, proven by how Harry could return to Point A and reclaim his body. But Harry being in a new body meant the connection was severed, which could only happen if Harry was at Point C, a new world, where a connection to Point A cannot be maintained, thus allowing Harry to enter a new body.

Basic magic theory states that you can't sever your soul on purpose from your body to inhabit a new body. It just can't be done unless you go down the Horcrux route, and Harry wasn't ever going to do that.

"On top of that, we can discount time travel from the equation, since we already know that stars are where they physically cannot be, regardless of time period. Not to mention the year is the same."

Harry had also already arrived at the same conclusion as Voldemort.

"This also isn't an illusion. An illusion may be able to overwhelm you, but even though I share your senses, I interpret them differently, because I have no brain to facilitate the process. Seeing as nobody has ever encountered a soul imprint on a live human before, they would not be able to create an illusion complex enough to ensnare me."

Harry hadn't thought of that. He also didn't know that Voldemort interprets sensory inputs differently than he does. Of course, Voldemort couldn't exactly do anything to him with it, so he wasn't worried at all.

"Finally, this isn't a prank conducted by the creatures you call friends. They are leagues below both you and me, and are unable to wield magic that would be able to maintain a situation such as this."

Well, obviously. Harry already knew that, and not because they were too weak to pull of such a grand-scale prank like this. No offense intended. It's because Harry trusted them to not do something like this to him.

"And so, once we have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth." Voldemort finished with a grand flourish.

"You just plagiarized Sherlock Holmes," Harry deadpanned, ignoring the fact that he did the same earlier.

Voldemort crossed his arms. "Wrong. Sherlock Holmes plagiarized from me."

"But he's older than you." Harry said.

"I have access to time turners."

"That's a lie. We already destroyed all of them during our clash at the Department of Mysteries."

And what a relief that had been. Dumbledore and Harry had paled considerably when they realized that Voldemort was after time turners. A Dark Lord capable of traveling through time was something they didn't want to fight. Something that they had to prevent no matter what.

They'd arrived at the Department of Mysteries, obliterating the Demons guarding the entrance. Dumbledore was stuck fighting a particularly nasty Demon general that had the ability to split in half whenever killed, so Dumbledore had told him to go on ahead to protect the time turners at all cost.

Harry had stumbled into the area where they kept the time turners, the hourglasses sparkling on the shelves. Then he saw Voldemort there, monologuing at the Death Eaters while dismantling the centuries-old runic arrays that protected the time turners from theft.

Harry wasted no time in launching Fiendfyre at the time turners. Perhaps Dumbledore could have pulled out a massive protective enchantment that prevented anyone with a Dark Mark from touching the time turners, but Harry wasn't even close to Dumbledore's level at that time, so he went for the next best thing: destroying them all.

Voldemort's roar of rage was said to still echo around the Department to this day.

Thankfully, the runic arrays had done their job. While Voldemort had made it almost three-quarters through, a feat that would've taken any other Curse Breaker at least a week, he wasn't able to fully penetrate the defense, and as such, hadn't managed to get any time turners.

And after Harry saw the smoldering remains, nobody would be able to get any time turners.

"And how do you know I don't have a secret one somewhere leftover from my schoolboy days when I had signed up for all the electives?" Voldemort asked with a smirk.

Harry looked at him. Could he. . . no way. "There's no way I'd believe you'd sign up for Care of Magical Creatures or Muggle Studies willingly. You don't have a time turner."

Voldemort deflated. "You're right, I don't. If I did. . . well, you and Dumbledore wouldn't have stood a chance."

The clearing around them suddenly shifted.

"Oh. You're waking up now. Farewell, Harry Potter. I'll see you soon."

"Unfortunately," Harry said before the clearing around them cracked into light, dissolving away.

And Harry woke up.

He was lying face up. He was on a futon, with a blanket over him. He sat up, pulling off the covers over him, and observed his surroundings.

It was still dark out. The position of the moon meant that he'd been asleep for an hour at most.

Even so, that hour was enough for his magic to heal considerably and his head and eyes to clear.

It was a skill he'd acquired during the war with Voldemort, where he only had short periods of time to rest before defending Hogwarts again from the onslaught of demons.

He stood up, stretching out his kinks. He felt good. There was no more pain, no more exhaustion.

He let out a contented sigh.

Where were Shirou, Rin, and Saber? Had they gone to the church without him? Harry sent out a pulse of magic. It returned to him, giving him a rudimentary layout of the house. Nobody was inside. So they had gone, then.

Harry walked out into the hallway towards the bathroom to freshen up. This compound was huge. Shirou must be really rich.

Walking into the bathroom, he shut the door, locked it, then went about to do his business. A cleaning charm, performed so many times that he could do it wandlessly, made all the sweat and dirt on him vanish without a trace.

Hey, if he was going to wear white clothes, then he had to be able to clean it at a moment's notice. Rushing at the enemy with dirt smeared everywhere looked bad, after all.

Harry checked out the shower longingly, before giving a sigh and turning away. He should ask Shirou first. He was still a guest, after all, and shouldn't be treating this like his own home.

He looked at himself in the mirror on the wall. His hair was wild as always. It was white, an effect of the stress from being in so many life-and-death scenarios in such a short amount of time. Harry didn't mind though. White hair looked kinda cool.

The lightning-shaped scar on his forehead was extremely faint, almost imperceptible by now. It had been slowly fading away ever since Voldemort had died two years ago, and it was on the verge of disappearing altogether.

Harry was glad. The scar was the cause of all the attention on him when he was at Hogwarts, and it was a reminder of the tragedy that took away his parents. Harry wanted it gone.

His eyes were the same green as always. People had compared them to an emerald before, but Harry didn't really see it.

Harry remembered when he used to wear glasses before Dumbledore had corrected his vision with a ritual. His eyes were slightly above average, but that was it. No cool powers.

Harry didn't care. Being able to see without glasses was awesome. Especially since he didn't have to worry about them falling off or being summoned in a fight anymore.

All in all, his appearance was exactly the same as before.

Finished, Harry walked out before freezing in place.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! How could Harry have forgotten?!

He was bound to someone who was in a War. And Harry knows from experience that once you're in a war, then all bets are off. Attacks can come from anyone and anytime. Even at night. Especially at night.

Harry examined the thing tugging at his magic. If he manipulated it just right, then he could theoretically track where it was coming from. Well, here goes nothing.

Harry's fingers danced in the air as if he was playing an imaginary piano. It was hard without his wand, but simple magic manipulation like this was well within his grasp.

Soon, he could make out a faint line extending from him to something far away. It went through walls.

Harry smiled. Gotcha. He was really too good at this.

With that, he spun in place and Disapparated outside, then did it again and again, following the line.

It wasn't the most elegant of solutions. He'd have preferred to use a broom, or even levitate a rock for him to stand on and glide through the air. He didn't have his wand though, so both options were out.

Finally, he Apparated onto a street. There was fog out, slightly obscuring his vision, but nothing some magic applied to his eyes couldn't help. The street lamps cast an ominous glow with their mechanical blue lights.

He spun to Disapparate again when suddenly there was a loud CRASH. Harry looked around wildly. Where was it- down there!

He hadn't seen it before, but below was Saber currently facing off against a. . .

Was that a giant? A mini-giant?

A hulk, a behemoth was staring down at Saber with angry red eyes. His hair was long and went out in every direction, and his bulging muscles were glowing a dim red.

He wore no shirt, only the bottom half of an armored Greek tunic. His sword- Harry couldn't call it a sword. It was like a mix between an axe and a sword, with a few aspects of club thrown in between.

The behemoth lifted his sword with a speed that shouldn't be possible with his size, and cut at Saber horizontally. She leaped back, dodging it by the barest of an inch, before returning with a powerful strike.

Harry could see Rin and Shirou standing behind Saber. She was defending them from this brute then. Having located them, Harry dismissed the line, drawing his magic back in.

Harry leapt over the railing, letting the wind softly guide him down next to Rin and Shirou. They yelped, clearly not having seen him as they were engrossed in the battle in front of them. He couldn't blame them. Saber moved with a deadly elegance, but she was being pushed back by the raw power of the mini-giant before her. It was a one-sided dance. Harry could see a cut on her stomach.

"Harry! You're here!" Shirou gasped out before Rin cut him off.

"I don't know how much you know, so I'm going to give you the basics," Rin said in a rush. "That's Berserker. He's fast and strong, and he's mad. As in, his mind has no logical thoughts, only anger. He's stronger than Saber, Harry. Help her."

Harry narrowed his eyes, and he held his hand up as Berserker swung down his axe-sword down at Saber.

Impedimenta

The simple schoolyard jinx was something he could pull off wandlessly. The jinx streaked forward, striking Berserker on the chest.

No effect. The sword was the same speed as before, slamming down onto Saber, who was already blocking with her invisible sword. Berserker was extremely magically resistant, then. Similar to a giant.

Possibly even more magically resistant.

Berserker and Saber noticed his presence then. Saber backflipped impossibly high before landing next to Harry, sword held in a ready stance.

"Harry. Are you well?"

Harry nodded, attention focused on Berserker. He hadn't made a threatening move so far, instead standing straight, spine erect and gazing down at Harry with angry red eyes.

"I'm fine."

"Good. Be careful, Harry. He may not look it, but his strength as a warrior is unparalleled. Do not mistake his size for lumberness. He is both agile and lithe, capable of keeping up with my strikes."

Saber stated.

"Onii-chan. Who is this? Where did you come from?"

What?! Harry looked up where the voice had come from. There. A young girl, 10 or 11 at most, was standing against the railing, looking down on them. She had white hair and red eyes, and was dressed in a purple trench coat, white shirt that doubled as a scarf, and a funny-looking purple hat.

But he ignored all of that. He hadn't sensed her. He had been standing on the same street as her perhaps not even 15 feet away, and he hadn't sensed her.

Granted, he hadn't sent out a magic pulse or detection magic of any kind, but his passive awareness should've noticed her. The fact that it hadn't meant that despite her appearance, she was definitely a force to be reckoned with.

Harry got over his shock quickly. Another habit leftover from when Voldemort seemed to throw out new spells like they were candy.

"My name is Harry Potter. It's a pleasure to meet you." He smiled up at the girl.

Dumbledore had always drilled into him the importance of politeness and diplomacy. The best fights are the ones not fought, after all. If you have a chance to settle things peacefully, you should always take it.

The little girl clapped her hands together. She leaned to the side, a smile adorning her face. It was actually really cute. Cuteness that was quickly offset by her next words.

"Oh, Onii-chan, I like this one. My name is Illyasviel von Einzbern, Harry. Berserker, kill them."

Telling a mini-giant to kill someone in such a cute voice shouldn't be allowed, no matter what world he was in.

The girl, Illyasviel, must've been Berserker's Master then. Berserker confirmed his theory by charging him and Saber wildly. The ground cracked beneath his every powerful lunge.

"Harry, cover me." Saber said, before running to meet Berserker head on in a clash of blades.

Cover her? How?!

Harry quickly ran through the list of magic he could do without a wand. Summoning, banishing, minor elemental manipulation, Disapparation, schoolyard hexes and jinxes, Occlumency, Legilimency, quality of life charms, minor protective enchantments, small scale transfigurations. . .

None of which would help in the fight against an extremely magically resistant mini-giant.

Harry needed his wand. There's a reason why wizards use wands, after all.

There are three ways to cast magic: verbally, nonverbally, and wandlessly.

Out of all of them, verbal magic is the strongest. The reason is that when you say something out loud, you think it more strongly. More raw emotion could be poured into the spell when it's spoken. And emotions are an extremely potent source of power. By saying something out loud and not in the comfort of the mind, the power of the spell increases. It's why the Killing Curse needs to be spoken out loud to work every single time.

It's like yelling "NO!" in the mind versus yelling it out loud. You can literally feel the power, the emotion levels within you rising, when you yell it out loud.

Of course, the drawback to verbal magic is that it's slow to cast. It may be only a split second slower than nonverbal magic, but in a battle, that split second could mean the difference between life or death. However, nonverbal magic is slightly less powerful than verbal magic, which is why a silently-cast Killing Curse would put the opponent into a coma at best. Fortunately, a difference in results is only observed with the most emotion-dependent spells, like the Unforgivables or Fiendfyre. For the rest of spells, the difference in power is negligible when comparing verbal and nonverbal.

Wandless magic is the weakest of all, hands down. While no words need to be spoken and no wand motions need to be performed, without the wand motions to facilitate the drawing, shaping, and layering of magic and the words spoken to supply the raw emotion, wandless magic is limited to the simplest spells.

This is why even Dumbledore and Voldemort still needed wands to cast magic. It's infinitely easier to do, with greater results coming from less power.

After all, simply pumping raw magic into some spells won't make it more powerful. It may be the case for the more simple spells, like the Disarming spell or the Blasting Curse, but when you move onto higher, more advanced magic, things like magic layering and shaping becomes a necessity to have maximum results.

Harry could pump all the magic he wanted into a wandless Killing Curse, and he'd perhaps be able to give the recipient a slight headache for an hour or two.

You at least need a wand to facilitate the layering and shaping the magic; layering being wrapping the magic around itself so it becomes more magically dense; shaping being manipulating the shape of the magic so that it'd have the desired result. Both of these determine the strength, speed, and integrity of the spell.

A Summoning charm, for example, shoots out magic at all directions. You wouldn't want the Killing Curse shooting out in all directions, though. Firstly it's because you don't want to accidentally kill yourself. Second, by splitting the magic apart in so many directions, you weaken the Curse by such a degree that it becomes useless.

Layering and shaping the magic before casting it as a spell is actually one of the things that made Voldemort as terrifying as he was.

Voldemort's Killing Curse is different from everyone else's, because of the sheer amount of times he layered the magic around itself. The magic, compressing and wrapping around itself until it becomes extremely dense, expands like a spring when cast, shooting out many times faster than the sound of the incantation itself, while simultaneously being capable of punching through metal, rock and other physical obstacles of a specific thickness.

The scariest part is that Voldemort is able to do everything, the layering and wrapping and manipulating, all in less than a tenth of a second. His wand had blurred so fast it looked almost still. He was capable of shooting out multiple high-powered ultra-fast Killing Curses in less than a second.

If Harry wasn't able to Fade in and out of Reality, he would be dead many times over already.

Wandless, Harry could only stare at Saber fighting Berserker. He wasn't able to do anything useful without a wand.

Nonetheless, watching Saber sidestep a vicious cleave that would've separated her body down the middle, Harry still had to help. If he couldn't cast magic onto Berserker directly, then he can always alter the battlefield.

He waited until Saber let loose a diagonal slice would require Berserker to angle his body to dodge.

The moment he saw Berserker starting to move, he snapped his fingers. The ground beneath Berserker abruptly lose all friction. With nothing to grip on, Berserker was caught off balance, unable to dodge.

Got him.

Then Berserker bent backwards at almost a 120 degree angle- how was he so agile?!- dodging the blow completely- and fell down on his head, sliding backwards a bit, feet sliding up.

Saber wasted no time at all. Harry manipulated the ground under her to regain friction again so as to not mess up her attacks.

Berserker showcased once again why he was a first rate warrior. With nothing to get a grip on and unable to push himself up without sliding back down, he, with pure force of muscle, lurched upwards into standing position, body not bending at all.

He met Saber's blade head on, and with a mighty roar, pushed her back, sending her flying.

Harry simply willed the earth to rise up, soft dirt catching her flying form.

Saber made to rush back in when Harry stopped her with a hand motion.

She looked at him. "What is it?"

"We can't fight that. I don't have access to my full arsenal yet. We should just retreat for now." He needed to get a wand first.

Saber frowned. "You would run away?"

"Yes." Harry felt no shame in admitting that. Without a wand, his options were limited. On top of that, in the brief exchanges between Saber and Berserker, he could see that Saber was losing. It wasn't obvious, but Berserker was simply faster and stronger. Not to mention Saber was wounded already.

"Onii-chan. Is he also your Servant?" Illyasviel drew their attention towards her.

Rin stepped forward. "That's right. This is a three-on-one. You'll lose." She asserted. But Harry could see that it was all false bravado. She had no faith in him at all.

Illyasviel drew back, hand covering her mouth. "Oh? Onii-chan, you already have two Servants? You're better than I thought. Harry Potter. . . No, I don't think I've heard of you. You're boring. Berserker, ignore Saber and kill him."

What. Why him.

Berserker jumped straight up. You don't need friction to jump. Then, once he was in the air, he curled into a ball and rotated so that his face was facing Harry. Then he pushed with his legs. There was a boom as he shot forward straight at Harry.

Harry's eyes widened. Berserker had pushed on the air itself to launch himself forward. How strong was this thing?!

Saber rushed in to intercept, but Berserker merely batted her away as if she were a fly. Then he landed right in front of Harry, axe-sword raised to deliver a finishing blow.

"Harry!" Shirou shouted behind him in concern.

Then Berserker swung down. Harry spun in place, Disapparating back. A small crater formed where Berserker had struck, the shockwave briefly knocking Harry off balance.

"What?!" Illyasviel screamed, losing her composure for the first time in the fight. "He just. . . he just teleported?!" In front of him, Berserker seemed to agree, tilting his head at Harry as if examining an interesting bug.

Harry also heard a slight gasp behind him. It was Rin. Evidently, she had still harbored some doubts about him knowing this "True Magic." Those doubts were wiped out.

"Personally, I prefer the term Apparition, but you can call it teleportation if you like." Harry said, a small smile on his lips. While he didn't like the dramatics as much as Voldemort or Dumbledore did, he could still appreciate a little shock and awe.

Illyasviel narrowed her red eyes. "Onii-chan," she said in an almost reproachful tone, "You didn't tell me you had a Sorcerer up your sleeve."

What was up with these people naming stuff? Sorcerer, True Magic, Berserker, Lancer, Archer, and Saber.

Whatever. His hands glowed red as he prepared for Berserker's next attack.

"I take it back. Don't kill him. He's interesting. Leave him for later. Go for Rin instead." She called out.

What. Why her.

Berserker turned to face Shirou and Rin, who jumped back in surprise. "What, why me?!" She yelled out.

"Because you're boring. Berserker, kill her."

In a burst of speed, Berserker rushed Rin. Harry cursed, prepared to Disapparate again, when a hail of red arrows rained down from the sky, punching into Berserker with the force of a Blasting Curse.

When the dust had cleared, Harry could see Berserker standing upright. No signs of damage at all. What was this thing?! Immune to both magical and physical attacks?!

Wait. Where had the arrows come from anyways? Harry turned towards the direction they rained from, but couldn't see anything. He pushed magic into his eyes. Still he could see nothing.

He let out a directed magic pulse. It returned with a massive amount of information. Bird, cloud, air, wind, building, concrete, rock, cement, car, people, building, building, tower, Archer.

Harry's eyes widened. Archer had made an accurate shot from that far away?! No, not only that. Multiple accurate shots?! That was insane! Even Dumbledore couldn't do that without a large area-of-effect spell!

Harry pumped magic into his eyes and ears. He wanted to know when the arrows were coming. He wouldn't be taken by surprise like that again.

Berserker took one step. Another. Then he started running towards Rin again. Closer and closer he got, Rin's red spells having no effect, until a streak of gold and blue slammed into him. Saber was back, and from the look on her face, she was livid.

She attacked with a new ferocity. Sidestep. Lunge. Slice. Step into guard and cut upwards.

Yet throughout the barrage, Berserker managed to deflect every blow.

Another arrow came down upon them. This time Harry heard it, so he knew to Apparate in, grab Saber, then Disapparate out. A moment later, a single arrow hit Berserker's head, exploding in red light. Smoke and dust obscured Berserker from view.

That should've done something, right? That was like a point-blank Explosion Spell. Surely it should've affected Berserker a little bit.

The smoke and dust cleared. Berserker was standing upright. No signs of injury on his form.

Oh come on.

"I-is he unkillable?" Shirou whispered in awe and fear.

Saber turned to Harry. "I need you to get him over there." She pointed at the mountains. "Can you do that?"

She had a plan, then. Harry nodded. "I'll try."

How to lure Berserker over, though? He couldn't just use a Banishing charm. He could toss a Portkey at Berserker, but Berserker could always just dodge it. Besides, creating a Portkey wandlessly was going to take time. He didn't have time.

Which meant he'll have to do something very, very stupid to lure Berserker to the mountains.

Harry took a deep breath to prepare himself. His white hair fluttered around as he directed his magic into his muscles, circulating it around his body. Then he Apparated forward, right in front of Berserker.

Berserker swung his axe-sword immediately. It was a fast-twitch reflex, and Harry would've had his head blown straight off if he hadn't ducked, the magic augmenting his speed.

Then he punched Berserker in the balls. Call it a low shot, but you gotta do what you gotta do in these type of situations.

Berserker just stared down as if not believing what Harry had just done.

Harry didn't know, but the only reason Berserker didn't block his punch was because it simply didn't register as a threat. It was the same reason why Berserker didn't move to block the arrows. He knew it would have no effect.

But while it didn't hurt and felt like a light tap at most, Harry still had punched him in the balls.

Berserker roared into the night. He may be mad and incapable of logical thought, but he still had enough manly pride left in him to know that Harry had just done something to him that no man should ever do to another. The veins on his muscles bulged out as he swung his sword down to kill Harry.

"Holy sh-" Harry Apparated onto the street where Illyasviel stood watching them. A second layer, Berserker leaped up and charged at Harry, fully intent on ripping him apart.

Harry turned around and ran as fast as he can.

RUN BITCH RUN

He could feel the shockwaves under his feet with every lunge Berserker took. Wait, that one was stronger than- Harry Disapparated again, appearing even farther ahead. Behind him, there was a crash as Berserker roared in fury that Harry had escaped death again. Berserker lifted his sword out of the crater it was in.

Then he turned to look at Harry, and Harry felt full pants-crapping terror for the second time in a long time. Berserker looked like he wanted to brutalize Harry, not because he was in a state of madness, not because Illyasviel ordered him to, but because he genuinely wanted to rip Harry into small pieces. This wasn't madness-induced insanity or loyalty to a Master. This was personal.

And Harry didn't have a wand. He didn't have a wand. If he failed to Disapparate in time, then there would be no shield to block the axe-sword.

Harry turned around and began running again. And if he screamed a few times- well, no one could hear him over Berserker's howls of fury. So it was alright.

Where was Saber? Harry ran into the forest, leaping on tree branches. Behind, Berserker was running through the trees, arms held out in front like a shield and shattering every tree that was in his way.

Then Harry found himself in a graveyard. He looked around. So that's what Saber was planning- he felt a rush of air behind him. He Disapparated forward again, Berserker's ludicrously large axe-sword crashing down where his head was a moment before.

He turned to face Berserker, who looked back with fury in his eyes. Harry then saw something behind Berserker.

Quickly, he lifted his hand and let out a blinding flash of light while simultaneously conjuring up a small mirror to block Saber's eyes. Berserker reared back, momentarily blinded. Harry dismissed the light and conjuration almost as soon as it was made. Then Harry looked Berserker in the eyes and dove into his mind.

All of Harry's moral tests were passed. Life-and-death situation? Check. Done on behalf of others? Check. Done on someone who has done so much evil that they're a monster in human skin? Ehhhh Berserker was insane, so technically Check. With all the requirements met, Harry used Legilimency on Berserker.

As powerful as Berserker was, he had no defenses for the mind. Nothing can stop Legilimency other than Occlumency, since its less magic and more thought. Wizards have been recorded using Legilimency on dragons, trolls, Acromantulas, and many other creatures. Of course, just because they entered their mind didn't mean that they saw anything useful. Many weren't able to stay sane- or even stay alive.

Harry had used Legilimency on a non-human only twice before: once on a Demon and another on a Kraken. Both times, even though Demons and Krakens operate on instinct, there was at least some logic dictating their movements. Logic to dodge an attack, logic to retreat when against a superior opponent, logic to capitalize on an opening and kill the prey. If A equals B and B equals C then A equals C.

Berserker had no such logic. His mind was filled completely with a righteous rage. Madness overwhelmed Harry instantly, and the only reason Harry stayed sane was because of the Occlumency. There was no logic in Berserker's behavior, only pure fury driving every action. But Harry had clearly saw Berserker dodge attacks, capitalize on openings, and even redirect Saber's attacks to benefit himself.

Which meant that Berserker's sword skills were so good, they were raw instinct, ingrained so deep into Berserker's being that he can do them practically unconsciously. Harry shivered. How long did Berserker have to train and how much did Berserker have to fight for him to be able to turn something that by all rights should be a learned behavior into a reflex?!

If Harry didn't know before, he knew now. Berserker was probably the best swordsman Harry had ever met. And if he didn't have the mind-clouding madness that affected every action. . .

Harry would not want to engage that in a fair fight.

But Harry didn't use Legilimency on Berserker just to admire Berserker's sword skills. While the primary purpose of Legilimency is to find information and uncover secrets, Legilimency can also be used to disorientate the enemy by dragging them through their innermost memories in the span of a second.

And so Harry pushed through all the rage and anger and looked. He arrived at the place where Berserker kept his memories, easily bypassing the meager defenses. Then Harry was suddenly in a room. An old man was being beaten by a young boy over the head by a musical instrument. Then he saw a young man around Harry's age shooting down a woman and two boys. The scene shifted to the man, now older, staring hatefully at a man sitting on his throne, looking down on him with a smirk. It was replaced by a bull near a river who was killed by being stabbed by its own horn by the man, who now had graying hair and wrinkles on his face. Finally, he saw the man being dissolved alive from an acid that coated the insides of his shirt. He saw his moans of pain as he climbed a funeral pyre to be set on fire. He saw him die, writhing in agony.

OUT

Harry was pushed out by a crazed anger that slammed into him like a sledgehammer. He stumbled back. He was inside Berserker's mind for perhaps less than a second, but it was enough. Berserker was disorientated, his mind reeling from the emotional trip he just went through. He recovered quickly, inhumanly quickly, but it was too late.

In the moment Berserker just relived the worst and most regretful times of his life, Saber had stabbed her sword into Berserker from behind.

"Harry, move!"

Harry didn't need to be told twice. A large amount of magic was gathering within Saber's sword. He Disapparated to the side as Saber unleashed a beam of golden light from her sword, the roar covering whatever words she may have said. Power exploded outwards.

Once the light died down, Harry looked at the scene of destruction before him. Hercules was kneeling, still upright in death. He had a large hole in his torso. His eyes had dimmed into darkness. Saber stood. Harry sensed her sword disappear.

She looked at him, and smiled. "We won."

"No, you didn't," the voice of Illyasviel said. She was standing near the edge of the forest. In front of her was Shirou and Rin, a floating sword made up of white lines pointed at their backs.

Rin was bleeding from a light cut on her neck. Shirou looked untouched but dazed.

"Hostages? You would take hostages in a fight?" Saber demanded. She looked truly furious, her invisible sword back in her hands. Why was she so mad? It's a perfectly viable strategy, if slightly dishonorable. Then he looked at her armor. Oh right. She was a knight with a code of honor. This was probably going against everything she stood for.

Harry stepped forwards, hands raised placatingly, a smile directed at Illyasviel. "Now, now, there's no need for that. We won't attack you." He spoke in a soothing tone, as if talking to an injured animal.

Illyasviel looked at him. "Sorcerer, you're correct in that you won't attack me. But that's because Berserker won't let you."

Harry frowned. "Berserker is dead."

Illyasviel smiled. "Oh, didn't I tell you? Berserker is Heracles, the strongest Servant. Killing him once isn't enough." Heracles? As in Hercules?!

"Harry!" Rin shouted. "Behind you!"

Saber and Harry whirled around, only to see Berserker almost fully healed.

Ultra-fast regeneration from a mortal wound?! It was like phoenix tears! How was Harry supposed to defeat something that wouldn't die?

Then his instincts screamed at him. Shirou's breath had also hitched.

"That bastard," Shirou breathed out. Not a moment later, Harry sensed something coming towards them. Something extremely magical. Another arrow then.

He analyzed the facts in a split second. Archer had already fired an explosive arrow, which had no effect. Which means that this arrow, practically bursting with magic, was probably even more destructive. And Harry, Saber, Illyasviel, Shirou, and Rin were standing right next to Berserker, the target.

Damnit.

Harry roared out, releasing an ungodly amount of magic into the air. Wind blew out from him as he slammed his hand into the ground, channeling in as much magic he can. He willed his magic deeper, cutting into dirt then rock, compressing everything around it. A huge sinkhole appeared in the ground around 20 feet deep, sending Harry, Saber, Illyasviel, Shirou, and Rin tumbling down.

Berserker made to follow, but Harry quickly blocked the hole with dirt, transfiguring it into a block of iron. He landed on his feet, sending out gusts of wind to catch everyone, even Illyasviel. She tried to kill him, yes, but she was still a little girl.

Then he performed a huge mass transfiguration in front of him, turning dirt into air. He commanded the earth beneath to flow like a river, leading them away from the death zone. They traveled dozens of feet before stopping.

And it wasn't a moment too soon. Everything had transpired in about two seconds, but it was enough.

BOOM!

Dirt and rock came tumbling down, and Harry struggled to hold the cave together with his magic as massive shockwaves threatened to collapse the earth within itself and bury them alive. Luckily, they were far away enough to not be in the center of the explosion.

Before long, it was over. Everything stopped shaking, and Harry let the transfigured iron revert back into dirt that fell back into the hole. Thank god transfiguration fell into the category of more power, better results wandless magic. The rough, unpolished, imprecise transfigurations, that is. Anything more complicated would be much harder if not outright impossible to pull off.

Something else fell down too, glinting amidst the brown. It clattered down in front of their feet before dissolving into light. Archer's arrow, then. Or a sword used as an arrow.

"Archer's arrow," Shirou breathed out. Harry focused his gaze on him. How did he know? He'd said "that bastard" too, before the shot hit. Was it a form of battle precognition?

"Archer! You need to aim better!" Rin shouted. "That was way too close!"

Who was she talking to? Archer? But he was too far away. Could they communicate telepathically?

Whatever. He'll ask later. For now, he jumped up, finding footholds for him to propel himself upwards with. The rest could stay down there for now until he was sure Berserker was dead.

Saber followed behind him. Then they reached the surface and looked around.

The ground was on fire. Molten rocks burned a bright orange. The heat in the air dried up all the moisture in Harry's lungs. Harry absentmindedly casted a Flame-freezing charm at him and Saber as well as a cleaning charm on his clothes, returning them to an immaculate white, while his eyes were focused on the scene of destruction before him. It was an extremely devastating attack. Berserker couldn't possibly have lived through that. He slowly focused on a shape still standing, back perfectly straight.

Berserker wasn't dead.

What the hell. He lived through that shot?! How durable was he? He fought with the ferocity of a Demon, the power of a dragon, the resistance of a giant, and the skills of an expert swordsman.

This wasn't fair.

Saber for her part got over her shock quickly. She held her sword up once again, ready for a charge, when Berserker leaped over their heads and landed near the hole, reaching his hand inside.

Harry's eyes widened. Shirou! Rin!

Then Berserker pulled out his hand wrapped protectively around Illyasviel. She looked shocked. Harry wasn't sure what she was more shocked at: the fact that she'd almost died or the fact that Harry had saved her.

Even so, Harry wasted no time in Apparating in, grabbing Rin and Shirou, then Disapparating out. His magic thrummed as he let it flow through the air. A heavy pressure settled down over the graveyard as Harry prepared his magic. If he couldn't kill Berserker, then knocking out his Master could work. Harry might feel like a rat bastard while doing so, but desperate times calls for desperate measures.

Berserker set Illyasviel down with a gentleness that shouldn't be possible. Illyasviel seemed to have regained enough bearings to speak again.

"You saved me," Illyasviel said, looking at Harry with a confused expression.

"You saved her." Saber accused Harry.

Harry rubbed the back of his head. "I mean, there's no reason not to, right?"

Saber stared at him. "She's the enemy."

"She's a little girl," Harry shot back. "A little girl that has no business in a War where she could die at any moment. Besides, if I could save her, why wouldn't I? She's just a kid." The last part was a whisper, Harry losing himself in his own memories from when he was barely five years old.

Harry, I'm sorry, my dear boy. But you have to fight. It's for the Greater Good. I hope that one day, you'll forgive me.

Illyasviel was still looking at Harry confusedly.

"Look, Illyasviel, I don't know what you've been told," Harry began kindly before he was cut off.

"Call me Illya." She said, in a much softer, genuine tone.

"Okay. Illya, I don't want to fight in this War. I don't want to fight in any wars, actually. So please, tell me why you're fighting. I'm sure there's a peaceful way to resolve this."

Saber, Berserker, and Illya looked at Harry incredulously. He could sense Rin staring at him too from the corner of his eye.

"She's. . . she's fighting for the Holy Grail. That's what we're all fighting for. Did you forget?" This time, it was Saber that spoke.

Oops. He actually had. In all the excitement tonight, he'd completely forgotten about the Holy Grail that could allegedly grant any wish.

"Oh." Harry didn't know what to say in response. He was good, but granting any wish was a little bit beyond him. Depends on the wish, really. As well as whether or not he has a wand.

Illya looked at him, and Harry got the sense that it was the first time she actually looked at him.

"Harry Potter. . ." she trailed off, looking as if her worldview was just shattered.

Then her smile was back. "Thank you, Harry, for saving me. Berserker, let's go."

Rin glared. "You're running away?"

Berserker picked Illya up and walked away, shielding her from the flames.

"Yes. I'd hoped to get the boring things out of the way first, but my plans have changed. I don't really care about Saber, but Harry. . . you've piqued my interest. So I'll let you all live a while longer."

Then she turned back around. "Okay, bye bye. Let's play again sometimes, Harry, Onii-chan."

With one last tilt of her head and a smile, she and Berserker disappeared.

So that happened. Harry turned to Shirou.

"Nice prediction." He complimented.

Shirou cocked his head. "Huh?"

Harry frowned. "You said 'that bastard' a few moments before the arrow hit, right? I'm pretty sure you were referring to Archer. I can't believe that guy used such an explosive attack with us around."

Rin scowled. "Yeah, he's right. Come on, Archer. You can't assume things like that! What if you were wrong?" She paused, as if listening to something. "Fine." So it was a form of telepathic communication.

She turned to Harry. "Archer told me to tell you that the reason he used that attack was because he was confident that you'd be able to teleport us all out of the range of the attack. He also told me to tell you that saving Illyasviel was a very stupid thing to do, and you should have let her die."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, well, Archer, if you're listening, all I can say to you is-"

He stopped abruptly when Shirou suddenly fell to his knees.

"Shirou!" Saber called. Shirou brought his hand to his mouth and coughed up blood.

"Oh. . ." then he passed out.

Harry could only look at Rin and Saber, who gazed helplessly back at him.

"Tell me you know healing magic?" Saber asked, supporting Shirou in her arms.

Harry ran through all the healing spells he was confident he could do without a wand. Botched healings were something he wished to avoid.

"Let me take a look at him first. Then we'll see."

XxX

Dead but not dead at the same time. What an interesting phenomenon.

She had been bored that night. She left her bodyguards behind to watch the Holy Grail War to try to relieve some of that boredom. She hadn't really expected anything interesting. And it wasn't at first. She was prepared to leave, already turning around.

Then he appeared.

At first, she thought that her eyes were deceiving her, since he'd appeared out of nowhere. Perhaps he knew Invisibility? Or he was just really, really stealthy?

Then he did it again when the Berserker had slammed down his sword. And again. And again. And she knew.

Teleportation.

He knew True Magic. There were 2 individuals in the world who could perform True Magic. And now there were 3.

That in itself should've been interesting enough, but then he'd gotten cut. It was a small cut from when he had punched Berserker, and he probably didn't even notice.

She did though. And when she inhaled the deep, rich scent, she knew.

A person surrounded by death. No, not just surrounded. A person that death curled around like a pet. A person who had tamed death.

The Master of Death.

This was true immortality. This was what she was looking for. This was her end goal.

She smiled. Going into head-on-head combat with a Sorcerer with unknown powers wasn't wise. She'd bide her time for now, and when the opportunity presents itself, she would rip the answers of immortality out of him while draining him of his sweet, delicious blood.

Her form flickered, then disappeared into the shadows.

XxX

Harry stared down at Shirou's wound. It was on both sides of Shirou's heart. Was he stabbed through the heart? The wound vaguely resembled a spear wound. It must've been Lancer's attack.

How was he even alive?

"I have nothing." He said regretfully as Rin and Saber held white bandages to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

Harry had Disapparated all of them back to Shirou's compound. They'd immediately placed Shirou sideways onto a futon, and applied bandages to stop the bleeding.

Harry didn't really understand the concept. Whenever he was hurt, he'd always had a spell to heal it, and if the wound was too large, a couple drops of Phoenix Tears would take care of it right away. Not to mention his body healed fast in general due to the amount of magic coursing through it.

Wizards on average could take more damage than muggles, heal faster than muggles, and just generally be better than muggles at any physical tasks simply because they have magic passively augmenting their abilities. The more magic they have, the stronger they are.

Harry still can't believe he lost an arm wrestle to Dumbledore.

Nevertheless, even passive magic couldn't heal a wound through the heart. All the healing spells Harry knew and could perform without a wand wasn't going to do a thing. He couldn't just close the cut. There could be internal bleeding inside, severed muscles, and broken bones.

"What do we do then? Do we take him to a hospital?" Rin asked desperately, looking down at Shirou.

They could. But then the doctors would ask questions. And Harry can't even mind-wipe them because there would be records.

Electronic made it really hard to maintain the Statute of Secrecy.

"We must. At this rate, he's going to. . ." Saber trailed off as Harry sensed a large amount of magic gathering at the wound. It then started closing on its own, similar to the effect of Phoenix Tears.

"Self-healing magic?" Saber said, astonished.

The wound shut completely. Shirou's breathing stabilized as the pain he felt must've melted away. His face relaxed into sleep.

Harry looked at Rin and Saber.

"Okay then."

Just to be sure, he cast a quick diagnostics charm at Shirou. It came back as green. Harry nodded. Green was healthy, purple was bad, red was dying.

It was a really basic diagnostics charm.

Just to be safe, Saber wrapped a fresh layer of bandages around Shirou while Harry and Rin cleaned up the bloody mess.

Once Shirou was bandaged and lying down, a blanket covering his form, Rin, Saber, and Harry left the room.

They stood awkwardly in the halls for a moment, trying to think of something to say.

Rin snapped her fingers. "That's right. Saber, you need clothes."

Saber looked down. "What's wrong with these?" Harry couldn't see a problem either. Of course, it was probably because of how much time he spent with Dumbledore, who seemed to relish in seeing people wince at his outfits.

"They're too old. You'd draw attention to yourself wherever you go. Since you can't dematerialize, you need ordinary clothes. Here, let me go get some for you." Rin left the hallways, presumably to get Saber a change of clothes.

Harry could hear the compound door opening and closing in the distance.

Harry looked at Saber. "There's nothing wrong with my clothes, is there?" Saber asked. Harry shook his head. "Not that I can see. Rin's probably an expert though, so you should listen to her."

"Very well."

They walked towards the living room, this time falling into a companionable silence.

Once they had sat down on the purple mats again, Harry sitting across from Saber, Harry looked intently at Saber.

"Now that Shirou and Rin aren't here, can you tell me who you are?" He asked. "I assure you, my mind is well-guarded."

Saber looked at him doubtfully.

"It is! I promise! I'm not like Shirou. I am very good at Occlumency. I was trained by the best." Harry protested.

Saber sighed. "Fine." She smiled at him.

"My name is Arturia Pendragon, though you may know me as King Arthur. My Noble Phantasm is Excalibur."

A beat.

"But you're a girl." Harry said.

"Yes."

"But you're called King Arthur. As in, a guy's name."

Saber looked down. "I was raised to be a king. Being a woman would make me appear weak, so my gender hidden and I was raised as a boy, becoming the king."

Oh. That made sense, actually. In the Wizarding World, people tended to discriminate on the basis of blood purity and species, not gender or race. But in the muggle Medieval times, people most definitely looked down on women as subservient.

"Ok then. Arturia-"

She looked up sharply. "While you know my true name, please, for the time being, call me Saber. I do not wish for my identity to be known."

Harry nodded. "Alright then. Saber, are you a witch?"

Saber blinked. "No, I'm not. I'm a knight."

Harry leaned forward. "But you're magically resistant. Absurdly so. So tell me, how are you that resistant? Is it your armor? Or maybe a passive effect of an enchanted item?"

Saber hesitated. "Before I was born, Merlin-"

"Merlin?! You mean Merlin Merlin? The wizard?!" Harry gasped. He had forgotten. King Arthur was guided by Merlin in the legends. Holy crap. He was talking to someone who knew Merlin firsthand. Even if it wasn't the same Merlin, it was still Merlin.

Saber nodded. "Yes. Merlin had implanted a dragon core within me before I was even born, which is what allows me to have such vast mana reserves as well as a high magic resistance. However, I am much more susceptible to anti-dragon attacks. On top of that, being of the Knight class gives me bonus Magic Resistance."

Harry ignored the latter part, instead focusing on the former. A dragon core implanted within a human? How would you go about planting a dragon core within a body?

Unless. . .

Harry stood up and knelt down next to Saber.

"May I check something?" He asked, hand hovering above her forehead.

She nodded. Harry put his hand on her head and sent in a pulse of magic. He withdrew his hand, comprehension on his face.

"I see." He said.

"See what?" Saber asked apprehensively.

"Merlin had infused dragon heartstrings into your heart. How the hell did he even manage that? Did he utilize the innate healing magic of dragons to accelerate the fusion? Was it runes?" Harry was now fully channeling his inner Hermione. He felt the sudden urge to go to the nearest magical library and research his hypothesis.

Saber's cough brought him back to reality. What- oh. He was still kneeling next to Saber, his face a few inches from hers.

He jumped back quickly, almost tripping over his two feet, before regaining his balance and composing himself. "My apologies. I was lost in my thoughts just now."

Saber nodded. "It's fine."

Harry paused. "Say, when I was next to you just now, I smelled some blood. Is the wound from Berserker healed yet?"

Saber shook her head. "I need more mana from Shirou to heal."

Harry nodded. "You have dragon properties, however. Hmm. . . Here, let me try something."

He put his hand onto Saber's stomach where the cut was and cast a basic regeneration spell. For dragons.

Saber gasped as she felt her wound closing on her own. "What was that?"

Harry smiled, satisfied. "You have dragon properties. I just cast a healing spell meant for dragons on you. Dragons innately have massive healing abilities, and that healing spell is designed to utilize it. It was just a theory, but it was a theory that worked."

"I had no idea such a spell existed. Thank you, Harry." Saber smiled at him.

"You're welcome."

Harry knelt back down onto his purple mat, and they settled back into a pleasant silence, Harry's eyes drifting shut as the events of the night caught up with him.

Just when he was about to fall asleep, the sliding door opened and Rin walked in, a bundle of clothes in her arms.

"I have the clothes," She said with a bright cheerful grin. Then she blinked, seeing that Harry was practically asleep sitting up. "Am I interrupting something?"

Harry inwardly groaned as he opened his eyes again and gave Rin a tired smile. "No, not at all. I'm a little tired, that's all."

"Okay, if you say so. Now get out."

Harry knit his brows in confusion. "Why?"

"Because Saber's going to be changing in here, of course. Unless you wanted to watch. . ." She raised her eyebrows suggestively.

"Rin!" Saber protested to Rin's laughter.

"Good-bye." He wasn't dealing with this.

Harry stepped out into the hallway, shutting the sliding door behind him. Why would Rin have Saber change in the living room and not the bathroom anyways? Rin's kinda weird, he decided.

"We're done. You can come in now." Rin called out about a minute later.

Harry walked back in, applying another quick cleaning charm as he noticed there was a speck of dirt on his pristine white robes.

Saber was dressed in a blue, knee-length skirt with black tights and a white shirt, with a blue string tie, and brown boots. Her arms were spread out to the side as she admired her wear.

Harry gave her a thumbs up. "Nice," He complimented.

Saber blushed a bit. Odd. You'd think she'd be used to being complimented- oh. She had mentioned being raised and living as a boy, right? And it's a common law of the universe that boys hate getting compliments on their looks from other boys, so she probably wasn't complimented very often.

"Thank you," she said.

Harry's countenance then became serious. It's time to remedy some of his problems.

"Rin, do you know where I can buy a wand?" He asked her, already considering how he'd get the funds. Shirou was rich. At least, Harry thinks he's rich. Surely he can afford about seven Galleons. If he can't, then Harry could probably pressurize several cubic meters of graphite into diamond, then sell it.

Rin blinked. "Wand? Why would you need a wand?" They don't use wands?!

"What? Then how do you guys cast magic? Wandlessly?" There was no way. Wandless magic was way too weak. Maybe they used a staff. Harry's gaze then fell on Saber. She could channel magic through her sword though. So maybe they used weapons as a wand?

Rin rolled up her left sleeve revealing glowing light blue lines that formed a pattern on her skin.

"We use Magic Crests, of course. It's a series of Magic Circuits engraved onto our skin that have spells stored inside them, which are passed down in the family. We cast the spells stored inside them by channeling magical energy into the Crest and activating the spell with the relevant incantation." She said as if this was third-grade knowledge.

Were those runes? Those were not runes. At least, they didn't resemble any runes Harry had seen before. And Harry had seen almost all of them. And Rin said it was passed down in the family? With spells stored inside of them?! That was almost exactly like the Elder Wand, which absorbed the knowledge and memories of the wizards who used it. A living, breathing wand that's engraved on the skin. That's really complicated.

"Oh. I just use a wand that has a magical core which is stabilized and bolstered with wood." Harry spoke after a few seconds. "My wand is composed of holly wood and a phoenix feather."

Saber and Rin stared at him. "A phoenix?! Where did you get a phoenix feather from? How did you get the phoenix feather?!"

Harry shifted uncomfortably under their gazes. "Umm. . . a phoenix gave my teacher, Dumbledore, his feathers, which he then gave to a wandmaker to create my wand."

Saber's and Rin's eyes widened to the point where it looked painful. "Your teacher has met a phoenix?"

Harry shook his head. "No."

Rin breathed a sigh of relief as Saber visibly deflated. "Ok, good good. It sounded like that for a moment."

Harry smiled. "They didn't just meet. Dumbledore and Fawkes are partners. They work together as equals."

Oh, their eyes had widened again. "Your teacher is considered an equal by a Phantasmal Beast?!"

"Yup. Well, okay, I'm pretty sure that Fawkes looks up to Dumbledore, but that's probably only because Dumbledore supplies him with treats. Hey, you need to breathe."

Rin inhaled when she realized she had stopped breathing. "Your teacher is acknowledged as an equal by a Phantasmal Beast, who gave a feather to create your wand. And he gives him treats. And he named him Fawkes."

"Yeah, pretty much. Why, what's wrong?"

This time, it was Saber that spoke. "I don't think you realize what you're saying. Most Phantasmal Beasts have disappeared by now, existing only in the Reverse Side of the World. A phoenix even appearing in the Age of Man is a miracle, much less co-existing with a human."

Oh. Right. Different worlds and all that.

Wait.

"But didn't you say that- nevermind." He was about to ask about how Merlin had implanted dragon heartstrings into Saber, but then remembered Rin didn't know Saber's true identity.

"Well, where I'm from, these Phantasmal Beasts exist to this day. I mean, we had unicorns living in the forest behind my school."

"What?"

"Oh yeah. I still remember when I used to collect their tail hairs that would get caught on bushes and branches and sell them for a profit. Oh, the good old days."

"What?"

"In my fourth year, I had to fight a dragon in a competition I was dragged into."

"What?"

"To be fair, the dragon was supposed heavily drugged and weakened by runes, but someone sabotaged it." Three guesses as to who sabotaged it, and the first two don't count. Harry still remembered the raw panic he had felt when he realized the dragon was 1) very much at its full strength and 2) pissed off like hell at him.

"How are you even alive?!" Rin screamed.

Harry shrugged. "70% skill, 5% luck, and 25% pure awesomeness." Hey, him living this long was pretty impressive. He could afford to take a little pride in it.

Rin then narrowed her eyes. "You're not from this world, are you."

Harry blinked. "Well, no. I thought I already told you. I had squeezed through a crack in your Reality."

"That means. . . You know the Second Magic, Kaleidoscope." Rin said in awe.

Harry tilted his head to the side, confused. "What's that?"

"The ability to travel to parallel dimensions," Rin said, suddenly looking a bit fearful of Harry. Harry didn't like that. It reminded him of the time when it was leaked to the Daily Prophet that he was a master of Dark Magic.

"No, it's not that. I can't travel through dimensions on purpose. In fact, the only reason I managed it this time was through an absurd amount of luck. It was an accident, I swear."

And it was definitely luck that allowed Harry to survive. Luck that Voldemort had decided to help out, luck that Harry held out as long as he did, and luck that a crack in Reality was opened at that time.

"Okay, thank the gods," Rin breathed out. "What world are you from, then?"

Harry smiled as he thought of Hogwarts and his friends. "A good one. A very, very good one."

Rin looked at him but didn't push further. "Anyways, to answer your question, we don't use wands in our magecraft."

Harry steepled his hands together on the table. "Another thing. What is True Magic and Magecraft? Why is me teleporting such a big deal?"

"Magecraft is anything that can be replicated with technology. Creating flames, for example, is magecraft, since a normal human can light up a match to get the same effect. True Magic, or Sorcery, is impossible to reproduce in any era, even if given unlimited time and resources. The results of its use is impossible. Teleportation is one example. Time travel, dimension travel, and resurrection of the dead also fall within the category." Rin lectured, one hand on her hip.

"Oh. Time travel too? That's weird. One of my best friends was given a time turner so she could travel back in time to take more classes."

"What?!"

"Nevermind, nevermind. Continue?"

Rin crossed her arms. "Right. So far, apparently you can do all four of them."

Harry shook his head. "Like I said, I don't think I can replicate the effects of dimensional travel. My resurrection was also a unique event. And I need a time turner to be able to time travel, all of which were destroyed recently."

Rin eyed him skeptically before sighing. "I'll believe you for now. Any more True Magic you want to tell us now?"

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Saber stopped him. "She is still the enemy, Harry. It is not wise to reveal all the cards up your sleeves."

Oh right. He was in a War, and Rin was still an enemy.

Rin tapped her fingers against her arm before speaking. "I was actually hoping to form an alliance with Shirou. Until we take out Berserker, of course."

Saber looked at her before smiling. "Shirou is still a complete novice, and it would be nice for him to be trained by a competent magus. Not to mention that Berserker is extremely difficult to defeat. Yes, an alliance would be good."

As Saber spoke, Harry thought about all the spells in his repertoire that couldn't be replicated by muggles. Did levitation count? Although that could technically be replicated with magnets. Summoning lightning? No, nature can already do that by itself. Oh, there was one.

"Right, so if we're going to be in an alliance, then I suppose I'll just tell you. Unless you have objections?" Harry asked Saber, who merely shook her head.

"I can conjure things. I can also manipulate mass and volume." Harry said.

Rin's eyes grew wide again. "You mean. . . you can violate the law of conservation of mass?"

"Temporarily, yes. I can do it permanently with runes sustaining the conjured object."

"Denial of Nothingness. . ." Rin whispered.

"What?" Harry asked.

Rin looked at him. "The First Magic is called the Denial of Nothingness. Nobody knows what it truly is, as nobody has been able to do it before, but it's been hypothesized that it's essentially denying Nothing, and creating something from nothing."

Harry scratched his head. "You can phrase conjuration like that, I guess."

"And you said you can manipulate mass and volume?" Rin continued.

Harry merely placed his hand on the table, applying a Featherlight charm. He then slammed his fist down, and it bounced up from the recoil.

"Yeah. Manipulating volume is a bit more tricky though. I need a wand to do magic as complicated as that."

Rin lifted up the table with a pinky, testing it out, before passing it to Saber, who also used a single finger to hold it up in the air.

"Amazing. . ." Rin murmured.

"Agreed," said Saber.

Rin then looked at Harry, and the intensity of her gaze frightened him.

"You need to get a wand. Find out a way. Then show me more True Magic." She said.

Harry gulped. He didn't like the hungry look in her eyes.

"I'll try."

Rin shook her head. "No. You will not try. You will do."

XxX

Rin had left to go to Shirou's room, saying something about "surprising him when he wakes." Harry let her go. Even though he was probably more powerful than her, she still scared him.

Saber stood up as well, Harry following her.

"I need to minimize my mana expenditure by sleeping," she said. "Good night, Harry."

"Good night."

He walked in the opposite direction towards the guest rooms when he froze and turned around.

"Wait. Saber, where are you going?"

Saber looked at him. "To the dojo."

"You're going to sleep in the dojo?" Harry asked disbelievingly.

At her nod, he gave her a strange look before gesturing for her to follow him.

"There's no need for that. There's plenty of guest rooms in this compound." Harry was still awed by the size of this compound. And to think it was all for one person. Okay, that wasn't fair. This could've been passed down in Shirou's family.

"I do not wish to intrude in one of Shirou's rooms," Saber said, now looking a bit unsure.

Oh right. The honor of a knight, and all that. Harry rolled his eyes. There's being polite, then there's being polite.

"Fine. Do you want to sleep in my room, then? Since he already put me in one." Harry offered.

Saber seemed to hesitate for a moment before nodding.

"Very well then."

Harry led the silent walk to the room he'd woken up in earlier, the layout of the compound still etched in his mind. Using magic to remember things felt like cheating, though. It wasn't like wizards didn't do it, however. In fact, he vaguely recalled one man in the Ministry who could speak over 200 languages. What was his name again? Kneel? Squat? Crouch! That's what it was. There was no way Crouch could remember that many languages without using magic to cement it all in his mind.

Once they reached the room, Harry cast another cleaning charm on himself, then on the futon, then on the floor. He would cast one on Saber, but he wasn't sure if her Magic Resistance would nullify it.

"Would you like one?" Harry asked when he saw Saber looking at him.

She nodded, closing her eyes in preparation. Harry cast the cleaning charm on her, unsure if it would work.

It did. Looks like Saber's Magic Resistance only applied to things that affected her directly. Since the cleaning charm targeted the dirt, sweat, and grime, it wasn't nullified.

Saber opened her eyes and examined herself. "That's a really useful spell."

"It is. You can have the futon. I'll sleep on the floor." Harry suggested, already sitting down.

Saber disagreed. "We can share the futon," she said.

Harry tilted his head before shrugging. "Yeah, sure. You take the left side, I take the right?"

"Yes, that will do," Saber said. Harry was already scooting onto the futon, making sure there was enough room for Saber as well. Luckily, she was small. Saber dropped down next to him, facing up, eyes already closing.

"Good night, Harry." Harry could feel her body warmth next to him. She smelled good, like fresh air and grass. Her breathing had already evened out, signifying that she'd fallen fast asleep.

"Good night, Saber," He said before turning to the side and casting a few protective enchantments over them.

Then he blissfully entered sleep for the second time that night.

XxX

His eyes opened. He was in the clearing again. Voldemort was also there, and he had a serious expression on his face.

"We need to talk." He said.

Harry nodded. "We do."

"What do you plan to do against this Berserker?" Voldemort asked. He snapped his fingers, a perfect replica of Berserker appearing before them. "You need powerful spells to take this thing down, and you can't do any of them without a wand."

Harry frowned, deep in thought. "At this point, I suppose I can just Disapparate away whenever he shows up."

Voldemort shook his head. "As usual, you don't see the full picture. What if Rin, Saber, or Shirou is also there?"

"Then I Disapparate them out too."

"And if they have anti-Apparition wards?"

Harry hesitated. "I don't think they do. You heard how Rin reacted to my teleportation."

"No. Do not assume things. The last thing you need is an enemy pulling out some spells out of their ass that can stop Apparition. Not to mention your Fading only works with yourself, not others." Voldemort said. Harry blew out a few strands of hair covering his face. Voldemort was right, as always. Assuming things in a battlefield would only lead to death. Only the cold hard iron of certainty would form the foundation of success.

Voldemort was also being very hypocritical, seeing as he had underestimated Harry countless times. Harry didn't bring that up though, since he needed Voldemort's help.

"What should I do then?" Harry asked.

"I recommend killing Shirou, destroying your status as a Servant, then doing whatever you want after that. There's no point in fighting this War for him." Even as Voldemort spoke, Harry was already adamantly shaking his head.

"No way. I won't do that."

Voldemort shrugged. "Then you better find a way to get a wand. And if you can't procure one, make one."

Harry looked at him hopefully. "I don't suppose you'll help me with that?"

"Even if I wanted to, I can't. Creating a wand has never made it onto my list of priorities. My yew wand and later the Elder wand was all I ever needed. And even if they broke, I could always go torture a wandmaker for another."

Harry grew more subdued at that. "Okay then."

"Oh, that's right," Voldemort began, "When you were fighting, I sensed something nearby."

"What?" Harry asked.

Voldemort nodded, a piercing stare on his face as if he was deciphering the secrets of the universe. "I'm not surprised you didn't sense it. It was faint and ancient. The only reason why I picked up on its presence is because I'm far more attuned to the Darkness than you ever will be. Whatever the case, this thing was powerful. Be careful."

"Alright." This was unsettling. This was very unsettling. Another player has entered the battlefield.

. . . "I still can't believe you decided to sleep next to the girl." Voldemort said.

Harry frowned. "Is there a problem?"

Voldemort stared at Harry incredulously. "You don't know?" Then he began to laugh. "Are you really that socially awkward?! You are! You totally are! Even I can understand, and I'm a Dark Lord!"

Harry didn't know what Voldemort was talking about, and he didn't really care either. Sleeping is sleeping. Did it really matter who was next to you? It's not like you would be awake for it.

"Voldemort, do me a favor, and shut up for once. I need to plan." Harry requested almost pleadingly.

To his surprise, Voldermot agreed, the last of his chuckles dying out being replaced by a somber expression. "Typically I wouldn't, but this is a special occasion. You need all the time you can get. Just. . . Harry, don't you dare die. If you do, then I'll murder you."

Harry cracked a smile. "I hate you too, you bastard."

And so they sat, each lost in their own thoughts and strategies, until the clearing cracked and dissolved into light once more.

XxX

Harry woke to the sound of Shirou gasping. Well, okay. That wasn't correct. Harry woke up to his protective enchantments being activated.

Without a wand, he can only cast an alert charm, form a small shield that covered his skin capable of blocking a poisoned dagger, and charm a small rock to leap up to intercept any spell cast at Harry's direction.

Harry was woken up by the alert charm, which created a buzzing sound in his ears. Then Shirou's gasps made sure that Harry stayed awake.

Harry sat up, seeing Shirou blushing furiously with his mouth wide open staring at Saber and Harry. Saber too was sitting up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Y-y-y. . ." Shirou stammered, seemingly unable to form words. Behind him stood Rin with a crafty smile on her lips.

Shirou finally found his voice. "You two slept with each other?!"

"Yeah," Harry said, already standing up and stretching.

Saber did the same next to him. "Good morning, Harry, Shirou, Rin."

Rin clapped Shirou on the back. "My my, Shirou. What naughty Servants you have. Perhaps they took after their Master?"

Shirou seemed to turn redder, if possible. "It wasn't me! I promise, it wasn't me!"

Harry briefly pondered what could've caused such a large reaction before dismissing it. It was probably one of this world's quirks.

Even so, why did it feel like Sirius was smiling proudly down at him? He could practically feel the phantom sensation of his hair getting ruffled.

"Shirou, are your wounds healed?" Saber asked. Caught off guard, Shirou touched the place where his wound used to be before saying "Yes, everything's good as new."

Saber smiled at him. "I am glad. I admit, I'm impressed. We did not expect you to possess self-healing magic."

Shirou frowned, confused. Harry picked that up right away. So Shirou didn't know? Or was he concealing a secret?

Then Saber shifted her expression into a serious one. "Shirou, there is something I feel I must say regarding last night. I must ask you to not pursue after us when we are in battle; instead, you should run as far away as possible.

"What choice did I have?" Shirou asked, raising his arms defensively. "It wasn't our fault Illyasviel decided to take us hostage."

"She wouldn't have been able to if you hadn't ran after us in the forest. Rin, you too. While you may be a decent mage, against Illyasviel, I fear that you are outclassed."

"Sorry about that, by the way." Rin said behind Shirou.

"Besides, you would risk your life to save a Servant you barely know?" Saber asked Shirou.

Shirou tilted his head to the side. "We shook on it, didn't we?"

Saber's eyes widened before she turned to the side, hand clasped over her chest.

"I see. Your words are gratifying to hear."

Shirou smile faded away when she turned back to him with a look that tolerated no argument. "However, please refrain from doing the same thing in the future. I will have you win the Grail for me."

"You. . . want the Grail too?" Shirou asked.

"Yes. So that I may fulfill my own wish." Saber replied.

Harry glanced at Saber out of the corner of his eye. Just what kind of wish would she have?

And could he, with his magic, fulfill them?

Because no matter what they said, any ritual that involved fights to the death to power it cannot possibly be that straightforward and pure.

Could it?

Rin clapped her hands together, startling all of them. "Well, I'll be off then. I'll be back later with my stuff. So prepare my room." And she left.

"You accepted her offer of an alliance then?" Saber asked Shirou.

He nodded. "Y-yeah. If that's alright with you guys."

"It is."

"I don't see a problem with it." And Harry really didn't. The less people he'll have to fight, the better.

Shirou smiled. "Good."

Then Rin popped her head back into the room. "Oh, and Shirou? Try to keep your Servants from. . . sleeping with each other again, will you?" And she left, the sound of her laughter echoing down the halls.

Shirou spluttered and grew red once more.

Harry just looked at Saber, who looked back at him just as confusedly.

What did they mean?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never really understood why nothing happened to Harry once the Horcrux was removed. There should've at least been some aftereffects.
> 
> Writing Voldemort was hard. At first, I was going to make him like how he was in canon: insane and refusing to cooperate. But Voldemort is way too pragmatic for that. If he has the opportunity to make the lives of his enemy hell, then he will take it. And if he has to act like an annoying child to do so. . . well, we already know his acting skills are state-of-the-art.
> 
> Rin accepted the alliance with Shirou because of Harry. She doesn't want to go against both Saber and a Sorcerer.
> 
> Yes, I Kaneki'd Harry. Though there is a secondary reason for his white hair.
> 
> The wiki never said if Dead Apostles were involved in any of the Holy Grail Wars at all. Though I imagine at least some would've showed up, if only to alleviate their boredom for a little while.
> 
> And as for the Master of Death. . . well, I've never really liked the cliche of Harry already knowing he's the Master of Death whenever he's travelling to different universes. He's still 23, after all. The not-aging thing shouldn't be notice until he's around 40 at most, since wizards naturally age slow. So for now, he's unaware that he's the MOD.
> 
> He doesn't have the Cloak, the Stone, or the Wand though. I'll leave it up to you guys to conspire how that works.
> 
> Legilimency works on all creatures. I made an executive decision for that. Berserker's God Hand may block magical and physical attacks, but its useless against Legilimency. Although now that he's been exposed to it once, he's immune to it.
> 
> I tried to include a stalled atmosphere in the Berserker fight. He can't kill Harry, and Harry can't kill him. Harry needs his wand to pull off his most advanced and powerful spells. Not to mention how Berserker is just overpowered.
> 
> Illya took hostages this time simply because she's against a Sorcerer. She may not have outwardly shown it, but she was definitely panicking a little bit.
> 
> Harry revealed some of his magic to Rin and Saber because it wouldn't make any sense for him to not to. They're allies, and keeping secrets from allies will only result in death, something Harry knows all too well. In other situations, hiding his abilities may make sense, but not in this one.
> 
> Hiding the fact that he's from another world also is useless, since Rin had already figured it out. Not to mention Harry thinks that the knowledge is useless in the long run, since what happened to him couldn't be replicated.
> 
> And as for the last scene. . . well, let me just say that the only adult role models Harry had was Dumbledore and Sirius. And Dumbledore only taught him morals and stuff. It was up to Sirius to teach him the rest. And Sirius is. . . well, Sirius. So he can understand some dirty jokes, be lost on others, and be completely clueless on normal human behavior simply because it's Sirius that taught him everything.
> 
> Oh, and Harry/Saber, anyone?
> 
> Ok but actually though, I'm still not decided on the pairings for this story. Would you guys like to see Harry/Saber or a Shirou/Saber with Harry acting as a wingman for Saber?
> 
> I think that's it for now. Oh, and would you guys be interested in me starting a forum on Fate: Sorcerer where I can answer any questions you guys have directly? And also post deleted scenes and such?
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> euphoric

**Author's Note:**

> And here it is. The first chapter of my first fanfiction.
> 
> This Harry Potter is from an AU universe, because JK Rowling nerfed her characters massively in canon.
> 
> I mean, a 70 year old genius dark lord being killed by a simple second year spell performed by a third rate wizard? No way that's fair.
> 
> Instantaneous teleportation, that is, traveling from point A to point B without spending the time or crossing the distance to get there, is considered True Magic: Pure Spatial Transference. This is different from Spatial Transportation, which is what Caster and Command Seals use; there's clearly a slight delay. 
> 
> This is also posted on Fanfiction.net
> 
> Thank you all for reading :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Fate/Stay Night or Harry Potter


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